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The  Dragon  of  Wantley 


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THE 

DRAGON 

op 

\VANTLEY 

MIS  TALE 


fy  Jo  fin 

SECOND  EDITION 


TO 

flY  ANCIENT  PLAYHATES  IN   APPIAN 
WAY  CAnBRIDQE  THIS   LIKELY 
STORY   IS   DEDICATED  FOR  REASONS 
BEST  KNOWN  TO  THEflSELVES 


Pref; 


WHEN  Betsinda  held  the  Rose 

And  the  Ring  decked  Giglio's  finger 
Thackeray  !  'twas  sport  to  linger 

With  thy  wise,  gay-hearted  prose. 

Books  were  merry,  goodness  knows  ! 

When  Betsinda  held  the  Rose. 

Who  but  foggy  drudglings  doze 

While  Rob  Gilpin  toasts  thy  witches, 
While  the  Ghost  waylays  thy  breeches, 

Ingoldsby?     Such  tales  as  those 

Exorcised  our  peevish  woes 

When  Betsinda  held  the  Rose. 

Realism,  thou  specious  pose ! 

Haply  it  is  good  we  met  thee; 

But,  passed  by,  we'll  scarce  regret  thee; 
For  we  love  the  light  that  glows 
Where  Queen  Fancy's  pageant  goes, 
And  Betsinda  holds  the  Rose. 


PREFACE. 

Shall  we  dare  it?     Then  let's  close 
Doors  to-night  on  things  statistic, 
Seek  the  hearth  in  circle  mystic, 

Till  the  conjured  fire-light  shows 

Where  Youth's  bubbling  Fountain  flows, 

And  Betsinda  holds  the  Rose. 


We  two — the  author  and  his  illustrator — did  not  know  what 
we  had  done  until  the  newspapers  told  us.  But  the  press  has 
explained  it  in  the  following  poised  and  consistent  criticism : 

"  Too  many  suggestions  of  profanity." 

—  Congregationalist,  Boston,  8  Dec.  '92. 
"  It  ought  to  be  the  delight  of  the  nursery." 

—  National  Tribune,  Washington,  22  Dec.  '92. 

9 


10  PREFACE   TO  SECOND  EDITION. 

"  Grotesque  and  horrible." 

—  Ziorf  s  Herald,  Boston,  21  Dec.  '92. 
"Some  excellent  moral  lessons." 

—  Citizen,  Brooklyn,  27  Nov.  '92. 

"If  it  has  any  lesson  to  teach,  we  have  been  unable  to  find 

it." 

—  Independent,  New  York,  10  Nov.  '92. 

"  The  story  is  a  familiar  one." 

—  Detroit  Free  Press,  28  Nov.  '92. 
"Refreshingly  novel." 

—  Cincinnati  Commercial  Gazette,  17  Dec.  '92. 
"It  is  a  burlesque." 

—  Atlantic  Monthly,  Dec.  '92. 

"  All  those  who  love  lessons  drawn  from  life  will  enjoy  this 

book." 

—  Christian  Advocate,  Cincinnati,  2  Nov.  '92. 

"  The  style  of  this  production  is  difficult  to  define." 

—  Court  Journal,  London,  26  Nov.  '92. 
"One  wonders  why  writer  and  artist  should  put  so  much 

labor  on  a  production  which  seems  to  have  so  little  reason 

for  existence." 

—  Herald  and  Presbyterian,  Cincinnati. 

Now  the  public  knows  exactly  what  sort  of  book  this  is, 
and  we  cannot  be  held  responsible. 


TABLE  •  OP  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    I. 

PAGE 

How  Sir  Godfrey  came  to  lose  his  Temper        .         -19 


CHAPTER    II. 

How   his   Daughter,   Miss   Elaine,  behaved   herself  in 

Consequence        .         .         .         .         .         .         -35 

CHAPTER    III. 
Reveals  the  Dragon  in  his  Den          .         .         .  52 

CHAPTER     IV. 

Tells  you  more  about  Him  than  was  ever  told  before 

to  Anybody 62 

CHAPTER   V. 

In  which    the  Hero   makes   his  First  Appearance  and 

is  Locked   Up   immediately          .         .         .         -77 

CHAPTER    VI. 

In    which    Miss    Elaine    loses    her    Heart,  and    finds 

Something  of  the  Greatest  Importance          .  91 


12  TABLE   OF  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    VII. 

PAGE 

Shows    what    Curious    Things    you    may    see,    if    you 

don't  go  to  Bed  when  you  are  sent     .         .         .    113 

CHAPTER    VIII. 
Contains  a  Dilemma  with  two  simply  egregious  Horns    136 

CHAPTER    IX. 
Leaves  much  Room  for  guessing  about  Chapter  Ten  .    168 

CHAPTER     X. 

The  great  White  Christmas  at  Wantley       .         .         .187 


LIST  OP  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 

Frontispiece           ........  2 

Ornamented  title       .......  3 

Copyright  notice    .         ...                 .         *         .         .  4 

Head-piece — Preface          .   -               .         .         .         .  7 

Head-piece — Preface  to  the  Second  Edition      ...  9 

Head-piece — Table  of  Contents           .          .         .         .  n 

Head-piece — List  of  Illustrations            .         .         .         .  13 

Half-title  to  Chapter  /•              17 

Head-piece  to  Chapter  I.       .         .         .         .         .         .  19 

Popham  awaiteth  the  Result  with  Dignity          .         .  27 

The  Baron  pursueth   Whelpdale  into  the  Buttery  .         .  32 

Tail-piece  to  Chapter  I. 33 

Half-title  to  Chapter  II. 34 

Head-piece  to  Chapter  II.          .....  35 

Sir  Godfrey  maketh  him  ready  for  the  Bath          .         .  39 

Sir  Godfrey  getteth  into  his  Bath        .         ...  41 

Mistletoe  consulteth  the  Cooking  Book  .         .  43 

Elaine  maketh  an  unexpected  Remark        .         .         .  49 

2  13 


14  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Page 

Half-title  to  Chapter  III. jr 

Head-piece  to  Chapter  III.  .         .         .         .         .         -52 

Hubert  sweepeth  the  Steps  .....  jj- 

Half-title  to  Chapter  IV. 61 

Head-piece  to   Chapter  IV.         .         .         .         .         .  62 

Hubert  lookcth  out  of  the  Window  .  .  .  .69 

Tail-piece  to  Chapter  IV. 75 

Half-title  to  Chapter  V. 76 

Head-piece  to  Chapter  V.           .....  77 

Geoffrey  replieth  with  deplorable  Flippancy  to  Father 

Anselm           ........  84 

Tail-piece  to  Chapter  V.  .  .  .  .  .  .  89 

Half-tille  to  Chapter  VI. 90 

Head-piece  to  Chapter   VI.         .....  91 

The  Baron  setteth  forth  his  Plan  for  circumventing  the 

Dragon          ........  p<5 

Geoffrey  tuggcth  at  the  Bars     .....  101 

Tail-piece  to  Chapter  VI.  ......  in 

Half-title  to  Chapter  VII. 112 

Head-piece  to  Chapter   VII.  ......  nj 

Elaine  cometh  into  the   Cellar  .....  120 

Geoffrey  goeth  to  meet  the  Dragon  ....  128 

Half-title  to  Chapter  VIII. 135 

Head-piece  to   Chapter   VIII.      .....  ij6 

The  Dragon  thinketh  to  slake  his   Thirst       .          .          .  14.2 

The  Dragon  perceiveth  Himself  to  be  Entrapped       .  14.8 

A  Noise  in  the  Cellar          .....  155,  156 

Half-title  to  Chapter  IX. 167 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  15 

Page 

Head-piece  to  Chapter  IX. 168 

Sir  Francis  decideth  to  go  down  again  .  .  .  176 
Brother  Hubert  goeth  back  to  Oyster-le- Main  for  the 

last  Time 181 

Tail-piece  to  Chapter  IX. 185 

Half-title  to  Chapter  X. 186 

Head-piece  to  Chapter  X.     ......  187 

Sir  Thomas  de  Brie  hastens  to  accept  the  Barori 's  polite 

Invitation  .......  192 

The  Court-yard 198 

The  Dragon  maketh  his  last  Appearance  .  .  .  203 
L1  Envoi  .  .  208 


HERE  was  something 
wrong  in  the  cellar  at 
Wantley  Manor.  Little 
Whelpdale  knew  it,  for 
he  was  Buttons,  and 
Buttons  always  knows 
what  is  being  done  with 
the  wine,  though  he  may  look  as  if  he  did  not. 
And  old  Popham  knew  it,  too.  He  was  Butler, 
and  responsible  to  Sir  Godfrey  for  all  the  brandy, 
and  ale,  and  cider,  and  mead,  and  canary,  and 
other  strong  waters  there  were  in  the  house. 

Now,  Sir  Godfrey  Disseisin,  fourth  Baron  of 
Wantley,  and  immediate  tenant  by  knight-service 
to  His  Majesty  King  John  of  England,  was  par 
ticular  about  his  dogs,  and  particular  about  his 
horses,  and  about  his  only  daughter  and  his  boy 
Roland,  and  had  been  very  particular  indeed 
about  his  wife,  who,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  did  not 
live  long.  But  all  this  was  nothing  to  the  fuss 
he  made  about  his  wine.  When  the  claret  was 

not  warm  enough,  or  the  Moselle  wine  was  not 

19 


20  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

cool  enough,  you  could  hear  him  roaring  all  over 
the  house  ;  for,  though  generous  in  heart  and  a 
staunch  Churchman,  he  was  immoderately  chol 
eric.  Very  often,  when  Sir  Godfrey  fell  into 
one  of  his  rages  at  dinner,  old  Popham,  standing 
behind  his  chair,  trembled  so  violently  that  his 
calves  would  shake  loose,  thus  obliging  him  to 
hasten  behind  the  tall  leathern  screen  at  the  head 
of  the  banquet-hall  and  readjust  them. 

Twice  in  each  year  the  Baron  sailed  over  to 
France,  where  he  visited  the  wine-merchants, 
and  tasted  samples  of  all  new  vintages, — though 
they  frequently  gave  him  unmentionable  aches. 
Then,  when  he  was  satisfied  that  he  had  selected 
the  soundest  and  richest,  he  returned  to  Wantley 
Manor,  bringing  home  wooden  casks  that  were 
as  big  as  hay-stacks,  and  so  full  they  could  not 
gurgle  when  you  tipped  them.  Upon  arriving, 
he  sent  for  Mrs.  Mistletoe,  the  family  governess 
and  (for  economy's  sake)  housekeeper,  who  knew 
how  to  write, — something  the  Baron's  father  and 
mother  had  never  taught  him  when  he  was  a 
little  boy,  because  they  didn't  know  how  them 
selves,  and  despised  people  who  did, — and  when 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  21 

Mrs.  Mistletoe  had  cut  neat  pieces  of  card-board 
for  labels  and  got  ready  her  goose-quill,  Sir  God 
frey  would  say,  "Write,  Chateau  Lafitte,  1187;" 
or,  "Write,  Chambertin,  1203."  (Those,  you 
know,  were  the  names  and  dates  of  the  vintages.) 
"Yes,  my  lord,"  Mistletoe  always  piped  up;  on 
which  Sir  Godfrey  would  peer  over  her  shoulder 
at  the  writing,  and  mutter,  "  Hum  ;  yes,  that's 
correct,"  just  as  if  he  knew  how  to  read,  the  old 
humbug !  Then  Mistletoe,  who  was  a  silly  girl 
and  had  lost  her  husband  early,  would  go  "Tee- 
hee,  Sir  Godfrey !"  as  the  gallant  gentleman 
gave  her  a  kiss.  Of  course,  this  was  not  just 
what  he  should  have  done  ;  but  he  was  a  wid 
ower,  you  must  remember,  and  besides  that,  as 
the  years  went  on  this  little  ceremony  ceased  to 
be  kept  up.  When .  it  was  "  Chateau  Lafitte, 
1187,"  kissing  Mistletoe  was  one  thing;  but 
when  it  came  to  "Chambertin,  1203,"  the  lady 
weighed  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds, 
and  wore  a  wig. 

But,  wig  and  all,  Mistletoe  had  a  high  position 
in  Wantley  Manor.  The  household  was  con 
ducted  on  strictly  feudal  principles.  Nobody, 


22  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

except  the  members  of  the  family,  received 
higher  consideration  than  did  the  old  Governess. 
She  and  the  Chaplain  were  on  a  level,  socially, 
and  they  sat  at  the  same  table  with  the  Baron. 
That  drew  the  line.  Old  Popham  the  Butler 
might  tell  little  Whelpdale  as  often  as  he  pleased 
that  he  was  just  as  good  as  Mistletoe  ;  but  he 
had  to  pour  out  Mistletoe's  wine  for  her,  not 
withstanding.  If  she  scolded  him  (which  she 
always  did  if  Sir  Godfrey  had  been  scolding 
her),  do  you  suppose  he  dared  to  answer  back? 
Gracious,  no  !  He  merely  kicked  the  two  head- 
footmen,  Meeson  and  Welsby,  and  spoke  se 
verely  to  the  nine  housemaids.  Meeson  and 
Welsby  then  made  life  a  painful  thing  for  the 
five  under-footmen  and  the  grooms,  while  the 
nine  housemaids  boxed  the  ears  of  Whelpdale 
the  Buttons,  and  Whelpdale  the  Buttons  punched 
the  scullion's  eye.  As  for  the  scullion,  he  was 
bottom  of  the  list ;  but  he  could  always  relieve 
his  feelings  by  secretly  pulling  the  tails  of  Sir 
Godfrey's  two  tame  ravens,  whose  names  were 
Croak  James  and  Croak  Elizabeth.  I  never 
knew  what  these  birds  did  at  that ;  but  some- 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  23 

thing,  you  may  be  sure.  So  you  see  that  I  was 
right  when  I  said  the  household  was  conducted 
on  strictly  feudal  principles.  The  Cook  had  a 
special  jurisdiction  of  her  own,  and  everybody 
was  more  or  less  afraid  of  her. 

Whenever  Sir  Godfrey  had  come  home  with 
new  wine,  and  after  the  labels  had  been  pasted 
on  the  casks,  then  Popham,  with  Whelpdale 
beside  him,  had  these  carefully  set  down  in  the 
cellar,  which  was  a  vast  dim  room,  the  ceilings 
supported  by  heavy  arches ;  the  barrels,  bins, 
kegs,  hogsheads,  tuns,  and  demijohns  of  every 
size  and  shape  standing  like  forests  and  piled  to 
the  ceiling.  And  now  something  was  wrong 
there. 

"This  'ere's  a  hawful  succumstence,  sir,"  ob 
served  Whelpdale  the  Buttons  to  his  superior, 
respectfully. 

"It  is,  indeed,  a  himbroglio,"  replied  Pop- 
ham,  who  had  a  wide  command  of  words,  and 
knew  it. 

Neither  domestic  spoke  again  for  some  time. 
They  were  seated  in  the  buttery  The  Butler 
crossed  his  right  leg  over  his  left,  and  waved  the 


24  THE  DRAGON  OF  IVANTLEY. 

suspended  foot  up  and  down, — something  he 
seldom  did  unless  very  grievously  perturbed. 
As  for  poor  little  Whelpdale,  he  mopped  his 
brow  with  the  napkins  that  were  in  a  basket 
waiting  for  the  wash. 

Then  the  bell  rang. 

"  His  ludship's  study-bell,"  said  Popham. 
"  Don't  keep  him  waiting." 

"  Hadn't  you  better  apprise  his  ludship  of  the 
facks  ?"  asked  Whelpdale,  in  a  weak  voice. 

Popham  made  no  reply.  He  arose  and  briefly 
kicked  Buttons  out  of  the  buttery.  Then  he 
mounted  a  chair  to  listen  better.  "  He  has 
hentered  his  ludship's  apawtment,"  he  remarked, 
hearing  the  sound  of  voices  come  faintly  down 
the  little  private  staircase  that  led  from  Sir  God 
frey's  study  to  the  buttery  :  the  Baron  was  in  the 
habit  of  coming  down  at  night  for  crackers  and 
cheese  before  he  went  to  bed.  Presently  one 
voice  grew  much  louder  than  the  other.  It 
questioned.  There  came  a  sort  of  whining  in 
answer.  Then  came  a  terrific  stamp  on  the 
ceiling  and  a  loud  "  Go  on,  sir  !" 

"  Now,  now,  now  !"  thought  Popham. 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  25 

Do  you  want  to  hear  at  once,  without  waiting 
any  longer,  what  little  Whelpdale  is  telling  Sir 
Godfrey  ?  Well,  you  must  know  that  for  the  past 
thirteen  years,  ever  since  1 1 90,  the  neighbour 
hood  had  been  scourged  by  a  terrible  Dragon. 
The  monster  was  covered  with  scales,  and  had  a 
long  tail  and  huge  unnatural  wings,  beside  fear 
ful  jaws  that  poured  out  smoke  and  flame  when 
ever  they  opened.  He  always  came  at  dead  of 
night,  roaring,  bellowing,  and  sparkling  and 
flaming  over  the  hills,  and  horrid  claps  of  thun 
der  were  very  likely  to  attend  his  progress. 
Concerning  the  nature  and  quality  of  his  roaring, 
the  honest  copyholders  of  Wantley  could  never 
agree,  although  every  human  being  had  heard 
him  hundreds  of  times.  Some  said  it  was  like 
a  mad  bull,  only  much  louder  and  worse.  Old 
Gaffer  Piers  the  ploughman  swore  that  if  his 
tomcat  weighed  a  thousand  pounds  it  would 
make  a  noise  almost  as  bad  as  that  on  summer 
nights,  with  the  moon  at  the  full  and  other  cats 
handy.  But  farmer  Stiles  said,  "  Nay,  'tis  like 
none  of  your  bulls  nor  cats.  But  when  I  have 

come  home  too  near  the  next  morning,  my  wife 
B  3 


26  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

can  make  me  think  of  this  Dragon  as  soon  as 
ever  her  mouth  be  open." 

This  shows  you  that  there  were  divers  opin 
ions.  If  you  were  not  afraid  to  look  out  of  the 
window  about  midnight,  you  could  see  the  sky 
begin  to  look  red  in  the  quarter  from  which  he 
was  approaching,  just  as  it  glares  when  some 
distant  house  is  on  fire.  But  you  must  shut  the 
window  and  hide  before  he  came  over  the  hill ; 
for  very  few  that  had  looked  upon  the  Dragon 
ever  lived  to  that  day  twelvemonth.  This  mon 
ster  devoured  the  substance  of  the  tenantry  and 
yeomen.  When  their  fields  of  grain  were  golden 
for  the  harvest,  in  a  single  night  he  cut  them 
down  and  left  their  acres  blasted  by  his  deadly 
fire.  He  ate  the  cows,  the  sheep,  the  poultry, 
and  at  times  even  sucked  eggs.  Many  pious 
saints  had  visited  the  district,  but  not  one  had 
been  able  by  his  virtue  to  expel  the  Dragon  ; 
and  the  farmers  and  country  folk  used  to  repeat 
a  legend  that  said  the  Dragon  was  a  punish 
ment  for  the  great  wickedness  of  the  Baron's 
ancestor,  the  original  Sir  Godfrey  Disseisin,  who, 
when  summoned  on  the  first  Crusade  to  Pales- 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 


27 


tine,  had  entirely  refused  to  go  and  help  his 
cousin  Godfrey  de  Bouillon  wrest  the  Holy  Sep 
ulchre  from  the  Paynim.  The  Baron's  ancestor, 
when  a  stout  young  lad,  had  come  over  with 
William  the  Conqueror ;  and  you  must  know 
that  to  have  an  ancestor  who  had  come  over 
with  William  the  Conqueror  was  in  those  old 
days  a  much  rarer  thing  than  it  is  now,  and 
any  one  who  could  boast  of  it  was  held  in 
high  esteem  by 
his  neigh 
bours,  who 
asked  him  to 
dinner  and  left 
their  cards  upon 
him  continually. 
But  the  first 
Sir  Godfrey 
thought  one 
conquest  was 
enough  for  any 


jPopham   axuailefh    die  RefuJt     UL*#>    Dignify*/**) 


28  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

man  ;  and  in  reply  to  his  cousin's  invitation  to 
try  a  second,  answered  in  his  blunt  Norman 
French,  "  Nul  tiel  verte  dedans  ceot  oyle," 
which  displeased  the  Church,  and  ended  for 
ever  all  relations  between  the  families.  The 
Dragon  did  not  come  at  once,  for  this  gentle 
man's  son,  the  grandfather  of  our  Sir  Godfrey,  as 
soon  as  he  was  twenty-one,  went  off  to  the  Holy 
Land  himself,  fought  very  valiantly,  and  was 
killed,  leaving  behind  him  at  Wantley  an  incon 
solable  little  wife  and  an  heir  six  months  old. 
This  somewhat  appeased  the  Pope  ;  but  the  pres 
ent  Sir  Godfrey,  when  asked  to  accompany  King 
Richard  Lion  Heart  on  his  campaign  against  the 
Infidel,  did  not  avail  himself  of  the  opportunity  to 
set  the  family  right  in  the  matter  of  Crusades. 
This  hereditary  impiety,  which  the  Pope  did  not 
consider  at  all  mended  by  the  Baron's  most  regu 
lar  attendance  at  the  parish  church  on  all  Sun 
days,  feast  days,  fast  days,  high  days,  low  days, 
saints'  days,  vigils,  and  octaves,  nor  by  his  paying 
his  tithes  punctually  to  Father  Anselm,  Abbot  of 
Oyster-le-Main  (a  wonderful  person,  of  whom  I 
shall  have  a  great  deal  to  tell  you  presently),  this 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  29 

impiety,  I  say,  finished  the  good  standing  of  the 
House  of  Wantley.  Rome  frowned,  the  earth 
trembled,  and  the  Dragon  came.  And  (the  le 
gend  went  on  to  say)  this  curse  would  not  be 
removed  until  a  female  lineal  descendant  of  the 
first  Sir  Godfrey,  a  young  lady  who  had  never 
been  married,  and  had  never  loved  anybody  ex 
cept  her  father  and  mother  and  her  sisters  and 
brothers,  should  go  out  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
on  Christmas  Eve,  all  by  herself,  and  encounter 
the  Dragon  single  handed. 

Now,  of  course,  this  is  not  what  little  Whelp- 
dale  is  trying  to  tell  the  Baron  up  in  the  study ; 
for  everybody  in  Wantley  knew  all  about  the 
legend  except  one  person,  and  that  was  Miss 
Elaine,  Sir  Godfrey's  only  daughter,  eighteen 
years  old  at  the  last  Court  of  Piepoudre,  when 
her  father  (after  paying  all  the  farmers  for  all  the 
cows  and  sheep  they  told  him  had  been  eaten 
by  the  Dragon  since  the  last  Court)  had  made 
his  customary  proclamation,  to  wit :  his  good 
will  and  protection  to  all  his  tenantry  ;  and  if  any 
man,  woman,  child,  or  other  person,  caused  his 
daughter,  Miss  Elaine,  to  hear  anything  about 


30  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

the  legend,  such  tale-bearer  should  be  chained 
to  a  tree,  and  kept  fat  until  the  Dragon  found 
him  and  ate  him.  So  everybody  obligingly  kept 
the  Baron's  secret. 

Sir  Godfrey  is  just  this  day  returned  from 
France  with  some  famous  tuns  of  wine,  and 
presents  for  Elaine  and  Mrs.  Mistletoe.  His 
humour  is  (or  was,  till  Whelpdale,  poor  wretch  ! 
answered  the  bell)  of  the  best  possible.  And 
now,  this  moment,  he  is  being  told  by  the  luck 
less  Buttons  that  the  Dragon  of  Wantley  has 
taken  to  drinking,  as  well  as  eating,  what  does 
not  belong  to  him  ;  has  for  the  last  three  nights 
burst  the  big  gates  of  the  wine-cellar  that  open 
on  the  hillside  the  Manor  stands  upon  ;  that  a 
hogshead  of  the  Baron's  best  Burgundy  is  going  ; 
and  that  two  hogsheads  of  his  choicest  Malvoisie 
are  gone ! 

One  hundred  and  twenty-eight  gallons  in  three 
nights'  work !  But  I  suppose  a  fire-breathing 
Dragon  must  be  very  thirsty. 

There  was  a  dead  silence  in  the  study  over 
head,  and  old  Popham's  calves  were  shaking 
loose  as  he  waited. 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  31 

"And  so  you  stood  by  and  let  this  black, 
sneaking,  prowling,  thieving"  (here  the  Baron 
used  some  shocking  expressions  which  I  shall  not 
set  down)  "  Dragon  swill  my  wine?" 

"  St — st — stood  by,  your  ludship  ?"  said  little 
Whelpdale.  "  No,  sir ;  no  one  didn't  do  any 
standing  by,  sir.  He  roared  that  terrible,  sir, 
we  was  all  under  the  bed." 

"  Now,  by  my  coat  of  mail  and  great  right 
leg!"  shouted  Sir  Godfrey.  The  quaking  Pop- 
ham  heard  no  more.  The  door  of  the  private 
staircase  flew  open  with  a  loud  noise,  and  down 
came  little  Whelpdale  head  over  heels  into  the 
buttery.  After  him  strode  Sir  Godfrey  in  full 
mail  armour,  clashing  his  steel  fists  against  the 
banisters.  The  nose-piece  of  his  helmet  was 
pushed  up  to  allow  him  to  speak  plainly, — and 
most  plainly  did  he  speak,  I  can  assure  you,  all 
the  way  down  stairs,  keeping  his  right  eye  glaring 
upon  Popham  in  one  corner  of  the  buttery, 
and  at  the  same  time  petrifying  Whelpdale 
with  his  left.  From  father  to  son,  the  Dissei 
sins  had  always  been  famous  for  the  manner 
in  which  they  could  straddle  their  eyes  ;  and  in 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 


)hc  Baron  purfuefh  Whelpdale  Into  tfie  Buttei^ 


Sir  Godfrey  the 
family  trait  was 
very  s tro  ngly 
marked. 

Arrived  at  the 
bottom,  he  stopped 
for  a  moment  to 
throw  a  ham 
through  the  stained- 
glass  window,  and 
then  made  straight 
for  Popham.  But 
the  head  Butler  was 
an  old  family  ser 
vant,  and  had  learned  to  know  his  place. 

With  surprising  agility  he  hopped  on  a  table, 
so  that  Sir  Godfrey's  foot  flew  past  its  des 
tined  goal  and  caught  a  shelf  that  was  loaded 
with  a  good  deal  of  his  wedding  china.  The 
Baron  was  far  too  dignified  a  person  to  take 
any  notice  of  this  mishap,  and  he  simply 
strode  on,  out  of  the  buttery,  and  so  through 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 


33 


the  halls  of  the  Manor,  where  all  who  caught 
even  the  most  distant  sight  of  his  coming, 
promptly  withdrew  into  the  privacy  of  their 
apartments. 


HAPTERW 

<[How  hi*  Daughter,  Mifs Elaine, 
behaued  in  Confequcncccso 


HE  Baron  walked  on,  his 
rage  mounting  as  he 
went,  till  presently  he 
began  talking  aloud  to 
himself.  "  Mort  d'aieul 
and  Cosenage  !"  he  muttered,  grinding  his  teeth 
over  these  oaths;  "matters  have  come  to  a 
pretty  pass,  per  my  and  per  tout !  And  this  is 
what  my  wine-bibbing  ancestor  has  brought  on 
his  posterity  by  his  omission  to  fight  for  the  True 
Faith !" 

Sir  Godfrey  knew  the  outrageous  injustice  of 
this  remark  as  well  as  you  or  I  do  ;  and  so  did 
the  portrait  of  his  ancestor,  which  he  happened 
to  be  passing  under,  for  the  red  nose  in  the 
tapestry  turned  a  deeper  ruby  in  scornful  anger. 
But,  luckily  for  the  nerves  of  its  descendant,  the 
moths  had  eaten  its  mouth  away  so  entirely,  that 

the  retort  it  attempted  to  make  sounded  only 

35 


36  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

like  a  faint  hiss,  which  the  Baron  mistook  for  a 
little  gust  of  wind  behind  the  arras. 

"My  ruddy  Burgundy!"  he  groaned,  "going, 
going  !  and  my  rich,  fruity  Malvoisie, — all  gone  ! 
Father  Anselm  didn't  appreciate  it,  either,  that 
night  he  dined  here  last  September.  He  said  I 
had  put  egg-shells  in  it.  Egg-shells  !  Pooh  !  As 
if  any  parson  could  talk  about  wine.  These 
Church  folk  had  better  mind  their  business,  and 
say  grace,  and  eat  their  dinner,  and  be  thankful. 
That's  what  I  say.  Egg-shells,  forsooth  !"  The 
Baron  was  passing  through  the  chapel,  and  he 
mechanically  removed  his  helmet ;  but  he  did  not 
catch  sight  of  the  glittering  eye  of  Father  Anselm 
himself,  who  had  stepped  quickly  into  the  con 
fessional,  and  there  in  the  dark  watched  Sir  God 
frey  with  a  strange,  mocking  smile.  When  he 
had  the  chapel  to  himself  again,  the  tall  gray 
figure  of  the  Abbot  appeared  in  full  view,  and 
craftily  moved  across  the  place.  If  you  had  been 
close  beside  him,  and  had  listened  hard,  you 
could  have  heard  a  faint  clank  and  jingle  beneath 
his  gown  as  he  moved,  which  would  have  struck 
you  as  not  the  sort  of  noise  a  hair-shirt  ought  to 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  37 

make.  But  I  am  glad  you  were  not  there  ;  for  I 
do  not  like  the  way  the  Abbot  looked  at  all,  es 
pecially  so  near  Christmas-tide,  when  almost 
every  one  somehow  looks  kinder  as  he  goes 
about  in  the  world.  Father  Anselm  moved  out 
of  the  chapel,  and  passed  through  lonely  corri 
dors  out  of  Wantley  Manor,  out  of  the  court 
yard,  and  so  took  his  way  to  Oyster-le-Main  in 
the  gathering  dusk.  The  few  people  who  met 
him  received  his  blessing,  and  asked  no  ques 
tions  ;  for  they  were  all  serfs  of  the  glebe,  and 
well  used  to  meeting  the  Abbot  going  and 
coming  near  Wantley  Manor. 

Meanwhile,  Sir  Godfrey  paced  along.  "To 
think,"  he  continued,  aloud,  "to  think  the  country 
could  be  rid  of  this  monster,  this  guzzling  ser 
pent,  in  a  few  days  !  Plenty  would  reign  again. 
Public  peace  of  mind  would  be  restored.  The 
cattle  would  increase,  the  crops  would  grow,  my 
rents  treble,  and  my  wines  be  drunk  no  more 
by  a  miserable,  ignorant — but,  no !  I'm  her 
father.  Elaine  shall  never  be  permitted  to  sacri 
fice  herself  for  one  dragon,  or  twenty  dragons, 
either." 

4 


38  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

"Why,  what's  the  matter,  papa?" 

Sir  Godfrey  started.  There  was  Miss  Elaine 
in  front  of  him  ;  and  she  had  put  on  one  of  the 
new  French  gowns  he  had  brought  over  with 
him. 

"Matter?  Plenty  of  matter!"  he  began,  un 
luckily.  "  At  least,  nothing  is  the  matter  at  all, 
my  dear.  What  a  question  !  Am  I  not  back  all 
safe  from  the  sea  ?  Nothing  is  the  matter,  of 
course  !  Hasn't  your  old  father  been  away  from 
you  two  whole  months  ?  And  weren't  those 
pretty  dresses  he  has  carried  back  with  him  for 
his  little  girl  ?  And  isn't  the  wine — Zounds,  no, 
the  wine  isn't — at  least,  certainly  it  is — to  be  sure 
it's  what  it  ought  to  be — what  it  ought  to  be  ? 
Yes !  But,  Mort  d'aieul !  not  where  it  ought  to 
be !  Hum !  hum  !  I  think  I  am  going  mad !" 
And  Sir  Godfrey,  forgetting  he  held  the  helmet 
all  this  while,  dashed  his  hands  to  his  head  with 
such  violence  that  the  steel  edge  struck  hard 
above  the  ear,  and  in  one  minute  had  raised  a 
lump  there  as  large  as  the  egg  of  a  fowl. 

"Poor,  poor  papa,"  said  Miss  Elaine.  And 
she  ran  and  fetched  some  cold  water,  and,  dipping 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


39 


her  dainty  lace  handkerchief  into  it,  she  bathed 
the  Baron's  head. 

"Thank  you,  my  child,"  he  murmured,  pres 
ently.  "Of  course,  nothing  is  the  matter.  They 
were  very  slow  in  putting  the  new"  (here  he 
gave  a  gulp)  "casks  of  wine  into  the  cellar; 
that's  all.  'Twill  soon  be  dinner-time.  I  must 
make  me  ready." 

And  so  saying,  the  Baron  kissed  his  daughter 
and  strode  away  towards  his  dressing-room.  But 
she  heard  him  shout  "  Mort  d'aieul !"  more  than 
once  before  he  was  out  of  hearing.  Then  his 
dressing-room  door  shut  with  a  bang,  and  sent 
echoes  all  along  the  entries  above  and  below. 

The  De 
cember  night 
was  coming 
down,  and  a 
little  twink 
ling  lamp 
hung  at  the 


makefh  him 
ready  for  fhe 


40  THE  DRAGON  Of   WANTLEY. 

end  of  the  passage.  Towards  this  Miss  Elaine 
musingly  turned  her  steps,  still  squeezing  her 
now  nearly  dry  handkerchief. 

"  What  did  he  mean  ?"  she  said  to  herself. 

"  Elaine  !"  shouted  Sir  Godfrey,  away  off  round 
a  corner. 

"  Yes,  papa,  I'm  coming." 

"  Don't  come.  I'm  going  to  the  bath.  A — did 
you  hear  me  say  anything  particular?" 

"Do  you  mean  when  I  met  you?"  answered 
Elaine.  "Yes  —  no — that  is, — not  exactly, 
papa." 

"Then  don't  dare  to  ask  me  any  questions, 
for  I  won't  have  it."  And  another  door  slammed. 

"What  did  papa  mean?"  said  Miss  Elaine, 
once  more. 

Her  bright  brbwn  eyes  were  looking  at  the 
floor  as  she  walked  slowly  on  towards  the  light,  and 
her  lips,  which  had  been  a  little  open  so  that  you 
could  have  seen  what  dainty  teeth  she  had,  shut 
quite  close.  In  fact,  she  was  thinking,  which  was 
something  you  could  seldom  accuse  her  of.  I  do 
not  know  exactly  what  her  thoughts  were,  except 
that  the  words  "dragon"  and  "sacrifice"  kept 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


bumping  against  each  other  in  them  continually  ; 
and  whenever  they  bumped,  Miss  Elaine  frowned 
a  little  deeper,  till  she  really  looked  almost 
solemn.  In  this  way  she  came  under  the  hang 
ing  lamp  and  entered  the  door  in  front  of  which 
it  shone. 

This  was  the  ladies'  library,  full  of  the  most 
touching  romances  about  Roland,  and  Walter  of 
Aquitaine,  and  Sir  Tristram,  and  a  great  number 
of  other  excitable  young  fellows,  whose  behaviour 


42  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

had  invariably  got  them  into  dreadful  difficulties, 
but  had  as  invariably  made  them,  in  the  eyes  of 
every  damsel  they  saw,  the  most  attractive,  fas 
cinating,  sweet,  dear  creatures  in  the  world. 
Nobody  ever  read  any  of  these  books  except 
Mrs.  Mistletoe  and  the  family  Chaplain.  These 
two  were,  indeed,  the  only  people  in  the  house 
hold  that  knew  how  to  read, — which  may  account 
for  it  in  some  measure.  It  was  here  that  Miss 
Elaine  came  in  while  she  was  thinking-  so  hard, 
and  found  old  Mistletoe  huddled  to  the  fire. 
She  had  been  secretly  reading  the  first  chapters 
of  a  new  and  pungent  French  romance,  called 
"Roger  and  Angelica,"  that  was  being  published 
in  a  Paris  and  a  London  magazine  simultane 
ously.  Only  thus  could  the  talented  French 
author  secure  payment  for  his  books  in  England  ; 
for  King  John,  who  had  recently  murdered  his 
little  nephew  Arthur,  had  now  turned  his  atten 
tion  to  obstructing  all  arrangements  for  an  inter 
national  copyright.  In  many  respects,  this  mon 
arch  was  no  credit  to  his  family. 

When  the  Governess  heard  Miss  Elaine  open 
the   door   behind   her,    she    thought    it   was   the 


44  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

family  Chaplain,  and,  quickly  throwing  the  shock 
ing  story  on  the  floor,  she  opened  the  household 
cookery-book, — an  enormous  volume  many  feet 
square,  suspended  from  the  ceiling  by  strong 
chains,  and  containing  several  thousand  receipts 
for  English,  French,  Italian,  Croatian,  Dalmatian, 
and  Acarnanian  dishes,  beginning  with  a  poem 
in  blank  verse  written  to  his  confectioner  by  the 
Emperor  Charles  the  Fat.  German  cooking  was 
omitted. 

"  I'm  looking  up  a  new  plum-pudding  for 
Christmas,"  said  Mistletoe,  nervously,  keeping 
her  virtuous  eyes  on  the  volume. 

"Ah,  indeed!"  Miss  Elaine  answered,  indiffer 
ently.  She  was  thinking  harder  than  ever, — was, 
in  fact,  inventing  a  little  plan. 

"Oh,  so  it's  you,  deary  !"  cried  the  Governess, 
much  relieved.  She  had  feared  the  Chaplain 
might  pick  up  the  guilty  magazine  and  find  its 
pages  cut  only  at  the  place  where  the  French 
story  was.  And  I  am  grieved  to  have  to  tell  you 
that  this  is  just  what  he  did  do  later  in  the  even 
ing,  and  sat  down  in  his  private  room  and  read 
about  Roger  and  Angelica  himself. 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  45 

"  Here's  a  good  one,"  said  Mistletoe.  "  Num 
ber  39,  in  the  Appendix  to  Part  Fourth.  Chop 
two  pounds  of  leeks  and " 

"  But  I  may  not  be  here  to  taste  it,"  said 
Elaine. 

"  Bless  the  child  !"  said  Mistletoe.  "  And 
where  else  would  you  be  on  Christmas-day  but 
in  your  own  house?" 

"  Perhaps  far  away.     Who  knows?" 

"  You  haven't  gone  and  seen  a  young  man 
and  told  him " 

"  A  young  man,  indeed !"  said  Elaine,  with  a 
toss  of  her  head.  "  There's  not  a  young  man  in 
England  I  would  tell  anything  save  to  go  about 
his  business." 

Miss  Elaine  had  never  seen  any  young  men 
except  when  they  came  to  dine  on  Sir  Godfrey's 
invitation  ;  and  his  manner  on  those  occasions  so 
awed  them  that  they  always  sat  on  the  edge  of 
their  chairs,  and  said,  "No,  thank  you,"  when  the 
Baron  said,  "Have  some  more  capon?"  Then 
the  Baron  would  snort,  "  Nonsense !  Popham, 
bring  me  Master  Percival's  plate,"  upon  which 
Master  Percival  invariably  simpered,  and  said  that 


46  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

really  he  did  believe  he  would  take  another  slice. 
After  these  dinners,  Miss  Elaine  retired  to  her 
own  part  of  the  house  ;  and  that  was  all  she  ever 
saw  of  young  men,  whom  she  very  naturally 
deemed  a  class  to  be  despised  as  silly  and  wholly 
lacking  in  self-assertion. 

"  Then  where  in  the  name  of  good  saints  are 
you  going  to  be?"  Mistletoe  went  on. 

"  Why,"  said  Elaine,  slowly  (and  here  she 
looked  very  slyly  at  the  old  Governess,  and  then 
quickly  appeared  to  be  considering  the  lace  on 
her  dress),  "why,  of  course,  papa  would  not 
permit  me  to  sacrifice  myself  for  one  dragon  or 
twenty  dragons." 

"  What !"  screamed  Mistletoe,  all  in  a  flurry  (for 
she  was  a  fool) .  "  What  ?" 

"  Of  course,  I  know  papa  would  say  that,"  said 
Miss  Elaine,  demure  as  possible. 

"Oh,  mercy  me!"  squeaked  Mistletoe;  "we 
are  undone !" 

"To  be  sure,  I  might  agree  with  papa,"  said 
the  artful  thing,  knowing  well  enough  she  was  on 
the  right  track. 

"  Oo — oo  !"  went  the  Governess,  burying  her 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  47 

nose  in  the  household  cookery-book  and  rocking 
from  side  to  side. 

"  But  then  I  might  not  agree  with  papa,  you 

know.  I  might  think, — might  think "  Miss 

Elaine  stopped  at  what  she  might  think,  for 
really  she  hadn't  the  slightest  idea  what  to  say 
next. 

"You  have  no  right  to  think, — no  right  at 
all !"  burst  out  Mistletoe.  "And  you  sha'n't  be 
allowed  to  think.  I'll  tell  Sir  Godfrey  at  once, 
and  he'll  forbid  you.  Oh,  dear !  oh,  dear  !  just 
before  Christmas  Eve,  too !  The  only  night  in 
the  year  !  She  has  no  time  to  change  her  mind  ; 
and  she'll  be  eaten  up  if  she  goes,  I  know  she 
will.  What  villain  told  you  of  this,  child  ?  Let 
me  know,  and  he  shall  be  punished  at  once." 

"I  shall  not  tell  you  that,"  said  Elaine. 

"Then  everybody  will  be  suspected,"  moaned 
Mistletoe.  "  Everybody.  The  whole  household. 
And  we  shall  all  be  thrown  to  the  Dragon.  Oh, 
dear !  was  there  ever  such  a  state  of  things  ?" 
The  Governess  betook  herself  to  weeping  and 
wringing  her  hands,  and  Elaine  stood  watching 
her  and  wondering  how  in  the  world  she  could  find 


48  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

out  more.  She  knew  now  just  enough  to  keep  her 
from  eating  or  sleeping  until  she  knew  everything. 

"I  don't  agree  with  papa,  at  all,"  she  said, 
during  a  lull  in  the  tears.  This  was  the  only 
remark  she  could  think  of. 

"  He'll  lock  you  up,  and  feed  you  on  bread 
and  water  till  you  do — oo — oo  !"  sobbed  Mistle 
toe  ;  "  and  by  that  time  we  shall  all  be  ea — ea — 
eaten  up  !" 

"  But  I'll  talk  to  papa,  and  make  him  change 
his  mind." 

"  He  won't.  Do  you  think  you're  going  to 
make  him  care  more  about  a  lot  of  sheep  and 
cows  than  he  does  about  his  only  daughter? 
Doesn't  he  pay  the  people  for  everything  the 
Dragon  eats  up  ?  Who  would  pay  him  for  you, 
when  you  were  eaten  up  ?" 

"  How  do  you  know  that  I  should  be  eaten 
up?"  asked  Miss  Elaine. 

"  Oh,  dear  !  oh,  dear  !  and  how  could  you  stop 
it  ?  What  could  a  girl  do  alone  against  a  dragon 
in  the  middle  of  the  night?" 

"  But  on  Christmas  Eve  ?"  suggested  the  young 
lady.  "  There  might  be  something  different 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 


49 


about  that.  He  might  feel  better,  you  know,  on 
Christmas  Eve." 

"  Do  you  suppose  a  wicked,  ravenous  dragon 
with  a  heathen  tail  is  going  to  care  whether  it  is 
Christmas  Eve  or  not?  He'd  have  you  for  his 
Christmas  dinner,  and  that's  all  the  notice  he 
would  take  of  the  day.  And  then  perhaps  he 
wouldn't  leave  the  country,  after  all.  How  can 
you  be  sure  he  would  go  away,  just  because  that 
odious,  vulgar  legend  says  so  ?  Who  would  rely 
on  a  dragon  ?  And  so  there  you  would  be  gone, 
and  he  would  be  here,  and  everything !" 

Mistletoe's  tears  flowed  afresh ;  but  you  see 
she  had  said  all  that  Miss  Elaine  was  so  curious 
to  know  about,  and  the  fatal  secret  was  out. 

The  Quarter-Bell  rang  for  dinner,  and  both  the 


ELAINE  '•  M  AKETH _•  AN»  VNEXPEGTJED°  REMARKS 

c       d  5 


50  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

women  hastened  to  their  rooms  to  make  ready  ; 
Mistletoe  still  boo-hooing  and  snuffling,  and  de 
claring  that  she  had  always  said  some  wretched, 
abominable  villain  would  tell  her  child  about  that 
horrid,  ridiculous  legend,  that  was  a  perfect  false 
hood,  as  anybody  could  see,  and  very  likely  in 
vented  by  the  Dragon  himself,  because  no  human 
being  with  any  feelings  at  all  would  think  of  such 
a  cruel,  absurd  idea  ;  and  if  they  ever  did,  they 
deserved  to  be  eaten  themselves  ;  and  she  would 
not  have  it. 

She  said  a  great  deal  more  that  Elaine,  in  the 
next  room,  could  not  hear  (though  the  door  was 
open  between),  because  the  Governess  put  her 
fat  old  face  under  the  cold  water  in  the  basin, 
and,  though  she  went  on  talking  just  the  same, 
it  only  produced  an  angry  sort  of  bubbling,  which 
conveyed  very  little  notion  of  what  she  meant. 

So  they  descended  the  stairway,  Miss  Elaine 
walking  first,  very  straight  and  solemn  ;  and  that 
was  the  way  she  marched  into  the  banquet-hall, 
where  Sir  Godfrey  waited. 

"Papa,"  said  she,  "I  think  I'll  meet  the 
Dragon  on  Christmas  Eve  !" 


in    his  Den  \ 

ROUND  the  sullen  towers 
of  Oyster-le-Main  the 
snow  was  falling  steadily. 
It  was  slowly  banking  up 
in  the  deep  sills  of  the 
windows,  and  Hubert 
the  Sacristan  had  given 

up  sweeping  the  steps.  Patches  of  it,  that  had 
collected  on  the  top  of  the  great  bell  as  the 
slanting  draughts  blew  it  in  through  the  belfry- 
window,  slid  down  from  time  to  time  among  the 
birds  which  had  nestled  for  shelter  in  the  beams 
below.  From  the  heavy  main  outer-gates,  the 
country  spread  in  a  white  unbroken  sheet  to  the 
woods.  Twice,  perhaps,  through  the  morning 
had  wayfarers  toiled  by  along  the  nearly-obliter 
ated  high-road. 

"Good  luck  to  the  holy  men  !"  each  had  said 
to  himself  as  he  looked  at  the  chill  and  austere 
walls  of  the   Monastery.       "Good  luck!    and   I 
52 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  53 

hope  that  within  there  they  be  warmer  than  I 
am."  Then  I  think  it  very  likely  that  as  he 
walked  on,  blowing  the  fingers  of  the  hand  that 
held  his  staff,  he  thought  of  his  fireside  and  his 
wife,  and  blessed  Providence  for  not  making  him 
pious  enough  to  be  a  monk  and  a  bachelor. 

This  is  what  was  doing  in  the  world  outside. 
Now  inside  the  stone  walls  of  Oyster-le-Main, 
whose  grim  solidity  spoke  of  narrow  cells  and  of 
pious  knees  continually  bent  in  prayer,  not  a 
monk  paced  the  corridors,  and  not  a  step  could 
be  heard  above  or  below  in  the  staircase  that 
wound  up  through  the  round  towers.  Silence 
was  everywhere,  save  that  from  a  remote  quarter 
of  the  Monastery  came  a  faint  sound  of  music. 
Upon  such  a  time  as  Christmas  Eve,  it  might  well 
be  that  carols  in  plenty  would  be  sung  or  studied 
by  the  saintly  men.  But  this  sounded  like  no 
carol.  At  times  the  humming  murmur  of  the 
•storm  drowned  the  measure,  whatever  it  was, 
and  again  it  came  along  the  dark,  cold  entries, 
clearer  than  before.  Away  in  a  long  vaulted 
room,  whose  only  approach  was  a  passage  in  the 
thickness  of  the  walls,  safe  from  the  intrusion  of 


54  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

the  curious,  a  company  is  sitting  round  a  cav 
ernous  chimney,  where  roars  and  crackles  a  great 
blazing  heap  of  logs.  Surely,  for  a  monkish 
song,  their  melody  is  most  odd  ;  yet  monks  they 
are,  for  all  are  clothed  in  gray,  like  Father  An- 
selm,  and  a  rope  round  the  waist  of  each.  But 
what  can  possibly  be  in  that  huge  silver  rundlet 
into  which  they  plunge  their  goblets  so  often  ? 
The  song  grows  louder  than  ever. 

We  are  the  monks  of  Oyster-le-Main, 
Hooded  and  gowned  as  fools  may  see ; 
Hooded  and  gowned  though  we  monks  be, 
Is  that  a  reason  we  should  abstain 
From  cups  of  the  gamesome  Burgundie  ? 

Though  our  garments  make  it  plain 
That  we  are  Monks  of  Oyster-le-Main, 
That  is  no  reason  we  should  abstain 
From  cups  of  the  gamesome  Burgundie. 

"I'm  sweating  hot,"  says  one.  "  How  for  dis 
robing,  brothers  ?  No  danger  on  such  a  day  as 
this,  foul  luck  to  the  snow  !" 

Which  you  see  was  coarse  and  vulgar  language 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 


55 


for  any  one  to  be  heard  to  use,  and  particularly 
so  for  a  godly  celibate.  But  the  words  were 
scarce  said,  when  off  fly  those  monks'  hoods,  and 
the  waist-ropes  rattle  as  they  fall  on  the  floor, 
and  the  gray  gowns  drop  down  and  are  kicked 
away. 

Every  man  jack  of  them  is  in  black  armour, 
with  a  long  sword  buckled  to  his  side. 

"  Long  cheer  to  the  Guild  of  Go-as-you- 
Please !"  they  shouted,  hoarsely,  and  dashed 
their  drinking-horns  on  the  board.  Then  filled 
them  again. 

"  Give    us    a    song,    Hu 
bert,"  said  one.     "  The  day's 
a  dull  one  out  in  the  world." 
"Wait   a   while,"    replied 
Hubert,    whose     nose    was 


56  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY 

hidden  in  his  cup  ;  "  this  new  Wantley  tipple  is  a 
vastly  comfortable  brew.  What  d'ye  call  the  stuff?" 

"  Malvoisie,  thou  oaf?"  said  another  ;  "  and  of 
a  delicacy  many  degrees  above  thy  bumpkin 
palate.  Leave  profaning-  it,  therefore,  and  to  thy 
refrain  without  more  ado." 

"Most  unctuous  sir,"  replied  Hubert,  "in  de 
manding  me  this  favour,  you  seem  forgetful  that 
the  juice  of  Pleasure  is  sweeter  than  the  milk 
of  Human  Kindness.  I'll  not  sing  to  give  thee 
an  opportunity  to  outnumber  me  in  thy  cups." 

And  he  filled  and  instantly  emptied  another 
sound  bumper  of  the  Malvoisie,  lurching  slightly 
as  he  did  so.  "  Health  !"  he  added,  preparing  to 
swallow  the  next. 

"A  murrain  on  such  pagan  thirst!"  exclaimed 
he  who  had  been  toasted,  snatching  the  cup 
away.  "Art  thou  altogether  unslakable?  Is 
thy  belly  a  lime-kiln  ?  Nay,  shalt  taste  not  a 
single  drop  more,  Hubert,  till  we  have  a  stave. 
Come,  tune  up,  man  !" 

"  Give  me  but  leave  to  hold  the  empty  vessel, 
then,"  the  singer  pleaded,  falling  on  one  knee  in 
mock  supplication. 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  57 

"Accorded,  thou  sot!"  laughed  the  other. 
"  Carol  away,  now  !" 

They  fell  into  silence,  each  replenishing  his 
drinking-horn.  The  snow  beat  soft  against  the 
window,  and  from  outside,  far  above  them, 
sounded  the  melancholy  note  of  the  bell  ringing 
in  the  hour  for  meditation. 

So  Hubert  began  : 

When  the  sable  veil  of  night 

Over  hill  and  glen  is  spread, 
The  yeoman  bolts  his  door  in  fright, 

And  he  quakes  within  his  bed. 
Far  away  on  his  ear 

There  strikes  a  sound  of  dread  : 
Something  comes  !  it  is  here  ! 

It  is  passed  with  awful  tread. 
There's  a  flash  of  unholy  flame ; 

There  is  smoke  hangs  hot  in  the  air : 
'Twas  the  Dragon  of  Wantley  came : 

Beware  of  him,  beware  ! 

But  we  beside  the  fire 

Sit  close  to  the  steaming  bowl ; 

We  pile  the  logs  up  higher, 
And  loud  our  voices  roll. 


58  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

When  the  yeoman  wakes  at  dawn 

To  begin  his  round  of  toil, 
His  garner's  bare,  his  sheep  are  gone, 

And  the  Dragon  holds  the  spoil. 
All  day  long  through  the  earth 

That  yeoman  makes  his  moan  ; 
All  day  long  there  is  mirth 

Behind  these  walls  of  stone. 
For  we  are  the  Lords  of  Ease, 

The  gaolers  of  carking  Care, 
The  Guild  of  Go-as-you-Please  ! 

Beware  of  us,  beware  ! 

So  we  beside  the  fire 

Sit  down  to  the  steaming  bowl ; 

We  pile  the  logs  up  higher, 
And  loud  our  voices  roll. 

The  roar  of  twenty  lusty  throats  and  the  clatter 
of  cups  banging  on  the  table  rendered  the  words 
of  the  chorus  entirely  inaudible. 

"  Here's  Malvoisie  for  thee,  Hubert,"  said  one 
of  the  company,  dipping  into  the  rundlet.  But 
his  hand  struck  against  the  dry  bottom.  They 
had  finished  four  gallons  since  breakfast,  and  it 
was  scarcely  eleven  gone  on  the  clock  ! 

"Oh,    I    am    betrayed!"     Hubert    sang    out. 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  59 

Then  he  added,  "  But  there  is  a  plenty  where  that 
came  from."  And  with  that  he  reached  for  Jfris 
gown,  and,  fetching  out  a  bunch  of  great  brass 
keys,  proceeded  towards  a  tall  door  in  the  wall, 
and  turned  the  lock.  The  door  swung  open,  and 
Hubert  plunged  into  the  dark  recess  thus  dis 
closed.  An  exclamation  of  chagrin  followed,  and 
the  empty  hide  of  a  huge  crocodile,  with  a  pair 
of  trailing  wings  to  it,  came  bumping  out  from 
the  closet  into  the  hall,  giving  out  many  hollow 
cracks  as  it  floundered  along,  fresh  from  a  vig- 
ourous  kick  that  the  intemperate  minstrel  had 
administered  in  his  rage  at  having  put  his  hand 
into  the  open  jaws  of  the  monster  instead  of 
upon  the  neck  of  the  demijohn  that  contained 
the  Malvoisie. 

"  Beshrew  thee,  Hubert!"  said  the  voice  of  a 
new-comer,  who  stood  eyeing  the  proceedings 
from  a  distance,  near  where  he  had  entered ; 
"treat  the  carcase  of  our  patron  saint  with  a 
more  befitting  reverence,  or  I'll  have  thee  caged 
and  put  upon  bread  and  water.  Remember,  that 
whosoever  kicks  that  skin  in  some  sort  kicks 
me." 


60  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

"Long  life  to  the  Dragon  of  Wantley !"  said 
Hubert,  reappearing,  very  dusty,  but  clasping  a 
plump  demijohn. 

"Hubert,  my  lad,"  said  the  new-comer,  "put 
back  that  vessel  of  inebriation  ;  and,  because  I 
like  thee  well  for  thy  youth  and  thy  sweet  voice, 
do  not  therefore  presume  too  far  with  me." 

A  somewhat  uneasy  pause  followed  upon  this  ; 
and  while  Hubert  edged  back  into  the  closet 
with  his  demijohn,  Father  Anslem  frowned  slightly 
as  his  eyes  turned  upon  the  scene  of  late  hilarity. 

But  where  is  the  Dragon  in  his  den  ?  you  ask. 
Are  we  not  coming  to  him  soon  ?  Ah,  but  we 
have  come  to  him.  You  shall  hear  the  truth. 
Never  believe  that  sham  story  about  More  of 
More  Hall,  and  how  he  slew  the  Dragon  of 
Wantley.  It  is  a  gross  fabrication  of  some  un 
scrupulous  and  mediocre  literary  person,  who,  I 
make  no  doubt,  was  in  the  pay  of  More  to  blow 
his  trumpet  so  loud  that  a  credulous  posterity 
might  hear  it.  My  account  of  the  Dragon  is  the 
only  true  one. 


HARTEBIVi 


'Tells 


'about 
Kim- 


N  those  days  of  shifting 
fortunes,  of  turbulence 
and  rapine,  of  knights- 
err  a  n  t  and  minstrels 
seeking  for  adventure 
and  love,  and  of  solitary 
pilgrims  and  bodies  of 

pious  men  wandering  over  Europe  to  proclaim 
that  the  duty  of  all  was  to  arise  and  quell  the 
pagan  defilers  of  the  Holy  Shrine,  good  men  and 
bad  men,  undoubted  saints  and  unmistakable 
sinners,  drifted  forward  and  back  through  every 
country,  came  by  night  and  by  day  to  every 
household,  and  lived  their  lives  in  that  unbounded 
and  perilous  freedom  that  put  them  at  one 
moment  upon  the  top  limit  of  their  ambition  or 
their  delight,  and  plunged  them  into  violent  and 
bloody  death  almost  ere  the  moment  was  gone. 
It  was  a  time  when  "  fatten  at  thy  neighbour's 

expense"  was  the  one  commandment  observed 
62 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  63 

by  many  who  outwardly  maintained  a  profound 
respect  for  the  original  ten  ;  and  any  man  whose 
wit  taught  him  how  this  commandment  could  be 
obeyed  with  the  greatest  profit  and  the  least 
danger  was  in  high  standing  among  his  fellows. 

Hence  it  was  that  Francis  Almoign,  Knight  of 
the  Voracious  Stomach,  cumbered  with  no  do 
mestic  ties  worthy  of  mention,  a  tall  slim  fellow 
who  knew  the  appropriate  hour  to  slit  a  throat  or 
to  wheedle  a  maid,  came  to  be  Grand  Marshal  of 
the  Guild  of  Go-as-you-Please. 

This  secret  band,  under  its  Grand  Marshal, 
roved  over  Europe  and  thrived  mightily.  Each 
member  was  as  stout  hearted  a  villain  as  you 
could  see.  Sometimes  their  doings  came  to  light, 
and  they  were  forced  to  hasten  across  the  borders 
of  an  outraged  territory  into  new  pastures.  Yet 
they  fared  well  in  the  main,  for  they  could  fight 
and  drink  and  sing ;  and  many  a  fair  one  smiled 
upon  them,  in  spite  of  their  perfectly  outrageous 
morals. 

So,  one  day,  they  came  into  the  neighbourhood 
of  Oyster-le-Main,  where  much  confusion  reigned 
among  the  good  monks.  Sir  Godfrey  Disseisin 


64  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY, 

over  at  Wantley  had  let  Richard  Lion  Heart  de 
part  for  the  Holy  Wars  without  him.  "  Like 
father  like  son,"  the  people  muttered  in  their  dis 
content.  "  Sure,  the  Church  will  gravely  punish 
this  second  offence."  To  all  these  whisperings 
of  rumour  the  Grand  Marshal  of  the  Guild  paid 
fast  attention  ;  for  he  was  a  man  who  laid  his 
plans  deeply,  and  much  in  advance  of  the  event. 
He  saw  the  country  was  fat  and  the  neighbours 
foolish.  He  took  note  of  the  handsome  tithes 
that  came  in  to  Oyster-le-Main  for  the  support  of 
the  monks.  He  saw  all  these  things,  and  set 
himself  to  thinking. 

Upon  a  stormy  afternoon,  when  the  light  was 
nearly  gone  out  of  the  sky,  a  band  of  venerable 
pilgrims  stood  at  the  great  gates  of  the  Mon 
astery.  Their  garments  were  tattered,  their 
shoes  were  in  sad  disrepair.  They  had  walked 
(they  said)  all  the  way  from  Jerusalem.  Might 
they  find  shelter  for  the  night  ?  The  tale  they 
told,  and  the  mere  sight  of  their  trembling  old 
beards,  would  have  melted  hearts  far  harder  than 
those  which  beat  in  the  breasts  of  the  monks  of 
Oyster-le-Main.  But  above  all,  these  pilgrims 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  65 

brought  with  them  as  convincing  proofs  of  their 
journey  a  collection  of  relics  and  talismans  (such 
as  are  to  be  met  with  only  in  Eastern  countries) 
of  great  wonder  and  virtue.  With  singular  gen 
erosity,  which  they  explained  had  been  taught 
them  by  the  Arabs,  they  presented  many  of  these 
treasures  to  the  delighted  inmates  of  the  Monas 
tery,  who  hastened  to  their  respective  cells, — 
this  one  reverently  cherishing  a  tuft  of  hair  from 
the  tail  of  one  of  Daniel's  lions  ;  another  handling 
with  deep  fervour  a  strip  of  the  coat  of  many 
colours  once  worn  by  the  excellent  Joseph.  But 
the  most  extraordinary  relic  among  them  all  was 
the  skin  of  a  huge  lizard  beast,  the  like  of  which 
none  in  England  had  ever  seen.  This,  the  Pil 
grims  told  their  hosts,  was  no  less  a  thing  than  a 
crocodile  from  the  Nile,  the  renowned  river  of 
Moses.  It  had  been  pressed  upon  them,  as  they 
were  departing  from  the  City  of  Damascus,  by  a 
friend,  a  blameless  chiropodist,  whose  name  was 
Omar  Khayyam.  He  it  was  who  eked  out  a  pious 
groat  by  tending  the  feet  of  all  outward  and  in 
ward  bound  pilgrims.  Seated  at  the  entrance  of 
his  humble  booth,  with  the  foot  of  some  holy  man 

e  6* 


66  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

in  his  lap,  he  would  speak  words  of  kindness  and 
wisdom  as  he  reduced  the  inflammation.  One  of 
his  quaintest  sayings  was,  "If  the  Pope  has  bid 
thee  wear  hair  next  thy  bare  skin,  my  son,  why, 
clap  a  wig  over  thy  shaven  scalp."  So  the 
monks  in  proper  pity  and  kindness,  when  they 
had  shut  the  great  gates  as  night  came  down, 
made  their  pilgrim  guests  welcome  to  bide  at 
Oyster-le-Main  as  long  as  they  pleased.  The 
solemn  bell  for  retiring  rolled  forth  in  the  dark 
ness  with  a  single  deep  clang,  and  the  sound 
went  far  and  wide  over  the  neighbouring  district. 
Those  peasants  who  were  still  awake  in  their 
scattered  cottages,  crossed  themselves  as  they 
thought,  "The  holy  men  at  Oyster-le-Main  are 
just  now  going  to  their  rest." 

And  thus  the  world  outside  grew  still,  and  the 
thick  walls  of  the  Monastery  loomed  up  against 
the  stars. 

Deep  in  the  midnight,  many  a  choking  cry 
rang  fearfully  through  the  stony  halls,  but  came 
not  to  the  outer  air  ;  and  the  waning  moon  shone 
faintly  down  upon  the  enclosure  of  the  garden, 
where  worked  a  band  of  silent  grave-diggers, 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  67 

clad  in  black  armour,  and  with  blood-red  hands. 
The  good  country  folk,  who  came  at  early  morn 
ing  with  their  presents  of  poultry  and  milk, 
little  guessed  what  sheep's  clothing  the  gray 
cowls  and  gowns  of  Oyster-le-Main  had  become 
in  a  single  night,  nor  what  impious  lips  those 
were  which  now  muttered  blessings  over  their 
bent  heads. 

The  following  night,  hideous  sounds  were 
heard  in  the  fields,  and  those  who  dared  to  open 
their  shutters  to  see  what  the  matter  was,  beheld 
a  huge  lizard  beast,  with  fiery  breath  and  accom 
panied  by  rattling  thunder,  raging  over  the  soil, 
which  he  hardly  seemed  to  touch  ! 

In  this  manner  did  the  dreaded  Dragon  of 
Wantley  make  his  appearance,  and  in  this  man 
ner  did  Sir  Francis  Almoign,  Knight  of  the 
Voracious  Stomach,  stand  in  the  shoes  of  that 
Father  Anselm  whom  he  had  put  so  comfortably 
out  of  the  way  under  the  flower-beds  in  the 
Monastery  garden, — and  never  a  soul  in  the 
world  except  his  companions  in  orgy  to  know 
the  difference.  He  even  came  to  be  welcome 
at  Sir  Godfrey's  table ;  for  after  the  Dragon's 


68  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

appearance,  the  Baron  grew  civil  to  all  members 
of  the  Church.  By  day  this  versatile  sinner,  the 
Grand  Marshal,  would  walk  in  the  sight  of  the 
world  with  staid  step,  clothed  in  gray,  his  hood 
concealing  his  fierce,  unchurchly  eyes  ;  by  night, 
inside  the  crocodile  skin,  he  visited  what  places 
he  chose,  unhindered  by  the  terrified  dwellers, 
and  after  him  came  his  followers  of  the  Guild  to 
steal  the  plunder  and  bear  it  back  inside  the 
walls  of  Oyster-le-Main.  Never  in  all  their  ad 
ventures  had  these  superb  miscreants  been  in 
better  plight ;  but  now  the  trouble  had  begun, 
as  you  are  going  to  hear.  We  return  to  Hubert 
and  the  company. 

"  Hubert  and  all  of  you,"  said  Father  Anselm, 
or  rather  Sir  Francis,  the  Grand  Marshal,  as  we 
know  him  to  be,  "  they  say  that  whom  the  gods 
desire  to  destroy,  him  do  they  first  make  drunk 
with  wine." 

"The  application!  the  application!"  they 
shouted  in  hoarse  and  mirthful  chorus,  for  they 
were  certainly  near  that  state  favourable  to  de 
struction  by  the  gods.  One  black  fellow  with  a 
sliding  gait  ran  into  the  closet  and  brought  a 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


69 


sheet  of  thin  iron,  and  a  strange  torch-like  tube, 
which  he  lighted  at  the  fire  and  blew  into  from 
the  other  end.  A  plume  of  spitting  flame  imme 
diately  shot  far  into  the  air. 

"  Before  thy  sermon  proceeds,  old  Dragon," 
he  said,  puffing  unsteady  but  solemn  breaths 
between  his  words,  "wrap  up  in  lightning  and 
thunder  that  we  may  be — may  be — lieve  what 
you  say."  Then  he  shook  the  iron  till  it  gave 
forth  a  frightful  shattering  sound.  The  Grand 


70  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

Marshal  said  not  a  word.  With  three  long  steps 
he  stood  towering  in  front  of  the  man  and  dealt 
him  a  side  blow  under  the  ear  with  his  steel  fist. 
He  fell  instantly,  folding  together  like  something 
boneless,  and  lay  along  the  floor  for  a  moment 
quite  still,  except  that  some  piece  in  his  armour 
made  a  light  rattling  as  though  there  were 
muscles  that  quivered  beneath  it.  Then  he 
raised  himself  slowly  to  a  bench  where  his 
brothers  sat  waiting,  soberly  enough.  Only 
young  Hubert  grinned  aside  to  his  neighbour, 
who,  perceiving  it,  kept  his  eyes  fixed  as  far  from 
that  youth  as  possible. 

"Thy  turn  next,  if  art  not  careful,  Hubert," 
said  Sir  Francis  very  quietly,  as  he  seated  him 
self. 

"Wonder  of  saints  !"  Hubert  thought  secretly, 
not  moving  at  all,  "how  could  he  have  seen 
that?" 

"  'Tis  no  small  piece  of  good  fortune,"  con 
tinued  the  Grand  Marshal,  "  that  some  one 
among  us  can  put  aside  his  slavish  appetites,  and 
keep  a  clear  eye  on  the  watch  against  misad 
venture.  Here  is  my  news.  That  hotch-pot  of 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  71 

lies  we  set  going  among  the  people  has  fallen 
foul  of  us.  The  daughter  of  Sir  Godfrey  has 
heard  our  legend,  and  last  week  told  her  sire 
that  to-nigfht  she  would  follow  it  out  to  the  letter, 

o 

and  meet  the  Dragon  of  Wantley  alone  in  single 
combat." 

"  Has  she  never  loved  any  man?"  asked  one. 

"She  fulfils  every  condition." 

-Who  told  her?" 

"That  most  consummate  of  fools,  the  Mistle 
toe,"  said  the  Grand  Marshal. 

"What  did  Sir  Godfrey  do  upon  that?"  in 
quired  Hubert. 

"  He  locked  up  his  girl  and  chained  the  Gov 
erness  to  a  rock,  where  she  has  remained  in 
deadly  terror  ever  since,  but  kept  fat  for  me  to 
devour  her.  Me !"  and  Sir  Francis  permitted 
himself  to  smile,  though  not  very  broadly. 

"  How  if  Sir  Dragon  had  found  the  maid 
chained  instead  of  the  ancient  widow?"  Hubert 
said,  venturing  to  tread  a  little  nearer  to  famili 
arity  on  the  strength  of  the  amusement  which 
played  across  the  Grand  Master's  face. 

"Ah,  Hubert  boy,"  he  replied,  "I  see  it  is  not 


72  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

in  the  Spring  only,  but  in  Autumn  and  Summer 
and  Winter  as  well,  that  thy  fancy  turns  to 
thoughts  of  love.  Did  the  calendar  year  but 
contain  a  fifth  season,  in  that  also  wouldst  thou 
be  making  honey-dew  faces  at  somebody." 

But  young  Hubert  only  grinned,  and  closed 
his  flashing  eyes  a  little,  in  satisfaction  at  the 
character  which  had  been  given  him. 

"Time  presses,"  Sir  Francis  said.  "  By  noon 
we  shall  receive  an  important  visit.  There  has 
been  a  great  sensation  at  Wantiey.  The  country 
folk  are  aroused  ;  the  farmers  have  discovered 
that  the  secret  of  our  legend  has  been  revealed 
to  Miss  Elaine.  Not  one  of  the  clowns  would 
have  dared  reveal  it  himself,  but  all  rejoice  in  the 
bottom  of  their  hearts  that  she  knows  it,  and 
chooses  to  risk  battle  with  the  Dragon.  Their 
honest  Saxon  minds  perceive  the  thrift  of  such  an 
arrangement.  Therefore  there  is  general  anxiety 
and  disturbance  to  know  if  Sir  Godfrey  will  per 
mit  the  conflict.  The  loss  of  his  Malvoisie  tried 
him  sorely, — but  he  remains  a  father." 

"That's  kind  in  him,"  said  Hubert. 

Sir   Francis   turned    a   cold    eye    on    Hubert. 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  73 

"  As  befits  a  clean-blooded  ,  man, "  he  proceeded, 
"  I  have  risen  at  the  dawn  and  left  you  wine-pots 
in  your  thick  sleep.  From  the  wood's  edge  over 
by  Wantley  I've  watched  the  Baron  come  eagerly 
to  an  upper  window  in  his  white  night-shift.  And 
when  he  looks  out  on  Mistletoe  and  sees  she  is 
not  devoured,  he  bursts  into  a  rage  that  can  be 
plainly  seen  from  a  distance.  These  six  morn 
ings  I  laughed  so  loud  at  this  spectacle,  that  I 
almost  feared  discovery.  Next,  the  Baron  visits 
his  daughter,  only  to  find  her  food  untasted  and 
herself  silent.  I  fear  she  is  less  of  a  fool  than  the 
rest.  But  now  his  paternal  heart  smites  him,  and 
he  has  let  her  out.  Also  the  Governess  is  free." 

"Such  a  girl  as  that  would  not  flinch  from 
meeting  our  Dragon,"  said  Hubert;  "aye,  or 
from  seeking  him." 

"She  must  never  meet  the  Dragon,"  Sir  Fran 
cis  declared.  "What  could  I  do  shut  up  in  the 
crocodile,  and  she  with  a  sword,  of  course  ?" 

They  were  gloomily  silent. 

"  I  could  not  devour  her  properly  as  a  dragon 
should.  Nor  could  I  carry  her  away,"  pursued 
Sir  Francis. 

D  7 


74  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

Here  Hubert,  who  had  gone  to  the  window, 
returned  hastily,  exclaiming,  "  They  are  coming  !" 

"Who  are  coming?"  asked  several. 

"The  Baron,  his  daughter,  the  Governess,  and 
all  Wantley  at  their  backs,  to  ask  our  pious  ad 
vice,"  said  the  Grand  Marshal.  "  Quick,  into 
your  gowns,  one  and  all  !  Be  monks  outside, 
though  you  stay  men  underneath."  For  a  while 
the  hall  was  filled  with  jostling  gray  figures  en 
tangled  in  the  thick  folds  of  the  gowns,  into  which 
the  arms,  legs,  and  heads  had  been  thrust  re 
gardless  of  direction  ;  the  armour  clashed  invis 
ible  underneath  as  the  hot  and  choked  members 
of  the  Guild  plunged  about  like  wild  animals 
sewed  into  sacks,  in  their  struggles  to  reappear 
in  decent  monastic  attire.  The  winged  crocodile 

o 

was  kicked  into  the  closet,  after  it  were  hurled 
the  thunder  machine  and  the  lightning  torch,  and 
after  them  clattered  the  cups  and  the  silver  rund- 
let  Barely  had  Hubert  turned  the  key,  when 
knocking  at  the  far-off  gate  was  heard. 

"Go  down  quickly,  Hubert,"  said  the  Grand 
Marshal,  "and  lead  them  all  here." 

Presently  the  procession   of  laity,   gravely  es- 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


75 


corted  by  Hubert,  began  to  file  into  the  now 
barren-looking  room,  while  the  monks  stood  with 
hands  folded,  and  sang  loudly  what  sounded  to 
the  uninstructed  ears  of  each  listener  like  a  Latin 
hymn. 


tRAPTEI&V 

S^^^^"*"^     Q_-   — ^  *cc  &r   is    at     Or 


the  Hero 
makes  *? 
his  f irft  * 
Appearan* 
Once    <odked  up. 


ITH  the  respect  that  was 
due  to  holy  men,  Sir 
Godfrey  removed  his 
helmet,  and  stood  wait 
ing  in  a  decent  attitude 
of  attention  to  the 
hymn,  although  he  did  not  understand  a  single 
word  of  it.  The  long  deliberate  Latin  words 
rolled  out  very  grand  to  his  ear,  and,  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  it  is  just  as  well  his  scholarship  was 
faulty,  for  this  is  the  English  of  those  same 
words : 

"It  is  my  intention 
To  die  in  a  tavern, 
With  wine  in  the  neighbourhood, 
Close  by  my  thirsty  mouth  ; 
That  angels  in  chorus 
May  sing,  when  they  reach  me, — 
'  Let  Bacchus  be  merciful 
Unto  this  wine-bibber. ' ' ' 

7*  77 


78  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

But  so  devoutly  did  the  monks  dwell  upon  the 
syllables,  so  earnestly  were  the  arms  of  each  one 
folded  against  his  breast,  that  you  would  never 
have  suspected  any  unclerical  sentiments  were 
being  expressed.  The  proximity  of  so  many 
petticoats  and  kirtles  caused  considerable  rest 
lessness  to  Hubert ;  but  he  felt  the  burning  eye 
of  the  Grand  Marshal  fixed  upon  him,  and  sang 
away  with  all  his  might. 

Sir  Godfrey  began  to  grow  impatient. 

"  Hem  !"  he  said,  moving  his  foot  slightly. 

This  proceeding,  however,  was  without  result. 
The  pious  chant  continued  to  resound,  and  the 
monks  paid  not  the  least  attention  to  their  vis 
itors,  but  stood  up  together  in  a  double  line, 
vociferating  Latin  with  as  much  zest  as  ever. 

"  Mort  d'aieul !"  growled  Sir  Godfrey,  shifting 
his  other  foot,  and  not  so  gingerly  this  second 
time. 

By  chance  the  singing  stopped  upon  the  same 
instant,  so  that  the  Baron's  remark  and  the  noise 
his  foot  had  made  sounded  all  over  the  room. 
This  disconcerted  him  ;  for  he  felt  his  standing 
with  the  Church  to  be  weak,  and  he  rolled  his 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  79 

eyes  from  one  side  to  the  other,  watching  for  any 
effect  his  disturbance  might  have  made.  But, 
with  the  breeding  of  a  true  man  of  the  world,  the 
Grand  Marshal  merely  observed,  "  Benedicite, 
my  son  !" 

"  Good-morning,  Father,"  returned  Sir  Godfrey. 

"And  what  would  you  with  me?"  pursued  the 
so-called  Father  Anselm.  "  Speak,  my  son." 

"Well,  the  fact  is "  the  Baron  began, 

marching  forward  ;  but  he  encountered  the  eye 
of  the  Abbot,  where  shone  a  cold  surprise  at  this 
over-familiar  fashion  of  speech  ;  so  he  checked 
himself,  and,  in  as  restrained  a  voice  as  he  could 
command,  told  his  story.  How  his  daughter  had 
determined  to  meet  the  Dragon,  and  so  save 
Wantley ;  how  nothing  that  a  parent  could  say 
had  influenced  her  intentions  in  the  least ;  and 
now  he  placed  the  entire  matter  in  the  hands  of 
the  Church. 

"Which  would  have  been  more  becoming  if 
you  had  done  it  at  the  first,"  said  Father  Anselm, 
reprovingly.  Then  he  turned  to  Miss  Elaine, 
who  all  this  while  had  been  looking  out  of  the 
window  with  the  utmost  indifference. 


80  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

"  How  is  this,  my  daughter?"  he  said  gravely, 
in  his  deep  voice. 

"  Oh,  the  dear  blessed  man  !"  whispered  Mis 
tletoe,  admiringly,  to  herself. 

"It  is  as  you  hear,  Father,"  said  Miss  Elaine, 
keeping  her  eyes  away. 

"And  why  do  you  think  that  such  a  peril  upon 
your  part  would  do  away  with  this  Dragon  ?" 

"  Says  not  the  legend  so?"  she  replied. 

"And  what  may  the  legend  be,  my  daughter?" 

With  some  surprise  that  so  well  informed  a 
person  as  Father  Anselm  should  be  ignorant  of 
this  prominent  topic  of  the  day,  Sir  Godfrey  here 
broke  in  and  narrated  the  legend  to  him  with 
many  vigourous  comments. 

"Ah,  yes,"  said  the  Father,  smiling  gently 
when  the  story  was  done  ;  "  I  do  now  remember 
that  some  such  child's  tale  was  in  the  mouths  of 
the  common  folk  once  ;  but  methought  the  non 
sense  was  dead  long  since." 

"The  nonsense,  Father!"  exclaimed  Elaine. 

"Of  a  surety,  my  child.  Dost  suppose  that 
Holy  Church  were  so  unjust  as  to  visit  the  sins 
of  thy  knightly  relatives  upon  the  head  of  any 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  8 1 

weak  woman,  who  is  not  in  the  order  of  creation 
designed  for  personal  conflict  with  men,  let  alone 
dragons?" 

"  Bravo,  Dragon !"  thought  Hubert,  as  he 
listened  to  this  wily  talk  of  his  chief. 

But  the  words  "weak  woman"  had  touched 
the  pride  of  Miss  Elaine.  "I  know  nothing  of 
weak  women,"  she  said,  very  stately ;  "but  I  do 
know  that  I  am  strong  enough  to  meet  this 
Dragon,  and,  moreover,  firmly  intend  to  do  so 
this  very  night." 

"Peace,  my  daughter,"  said  the  monk;  "and 
listen  to  the  voice  of  thy  mother  the  Church 
speaking  through  the  humblest  of  her  servants. 
This  legend  of  thine  holds  not  a  single  grain  of 
truth.  'Tis  a  conceit  of  the  common  herd,  set 
afoot  by  some  ingenious  fellow  who  may  have 
thought  he  was  doing  a  great  thing  in  devising 
such  fantastic  mixture.  True  it  is  that  the  Mon 
ster  is  a  visitation  to  punish  the  impiety  of  certain 
members  of  thy  family.  True  it  is  that  he  will 
not  depart  till  a  member  of  that  family  perform 
a  certain  act.  But  it  is  to  be  a  male  descendant." 

Now  Sir  Godfrey's  boy  Roland  was  being  in- 


82  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

structed  in  knightly  arts  and  conduct  away  from 
home. 

"Who  told  you  that?"  inquired  the  Baron,  as 
the  thought  of  his  precious  wine-cellar  came  into 
his  head. 

"On  last  Christmas  Eve  I  had  a  vision,"  re 
plied  Father  Anselm.  "Thy  grandfather,  the 
brave  youth  who  by  journeying  to  the  Holy  War 
averted  this  curse  until  thine  own  conduct  caused 
it  to  descend  upon  us,  appeared  to  me  in  shining 
armour.  'Anselm,'  he  said,  and  raised  his  right 
arm,  '  the  Dragon  is  a  grievous  burden  on  the 
people.  I  can  see  that  from  where  I  am.  Now, 
Anselm,  when  the  fitting  hour  shall  come,  and 
my  great-grandson's  years  be  mature  enough  to 
have  made  a  man  of  him,  let  him  go  to  the  next 
Holy  War  that  is  proclaimed,  and  on  the  very 
night  of  his  departure  the  curse  will  be  removed 
and  our  family  forgiven.  More  than  this,  An 
selm,  if  any  male  descendant  from  me  direct 
shall  at  any  time  attend  a  Crusade  when  it  is 
declared,  the  country  will  be  free  forever.'  So 
saying,  he  dissolved  out  of  my  sight  in  a  silver 
gleaming  mist."  Here  Father  Anselm  paused, 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  83 

and  from  under  his  hood  watched  with  a  trifle  of 
anxiety  the  effect  of  his  speech. 

There  was  a  short  silence,  and  then  Sir  God 
frey  said,  "Am  I  to  understand  this  thing  hangs 
on  the  event  of  another  Crusade?" 

The  Abbot  bowed. 

"  Meanwhile,  till  that  event  happen,  the  Dragon 
can  rage  unchecked  ?" 

The  Abbot  bowed  again. 

"Will  there  be  another  Crusade  along  pretty 
soon  ?"  Sir  Godfrey  pursued. 

"These  things  lie  not  in  human  knowledge," 
replied  Father  Anslem.  He  little  dreamed  what 
news  the  morrow's  sun  would  see. 

"  Oh,  my  sheep !"  groaned  many  a  poor 
farmer. 

"  Oh,  my  Burgundy  !"  groaned  Sir  Godfrey. 

"  In  that  case,"  exclaimed  Elaine,  her  cheeks 
pink  with  excitement,  "  I  shall  try  the  virtue  of 
the  legend,  at  any  rate." 

"  Most  impious,  my  daughter,  most  impious 
will  such  conduct  be  in  the  sight  of  Mother 
Church,"  said  Father  Anselm. 

"  Hear  me,  all  people !"  shouted  Sir  Godfrey, 


84 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


*  wifh  deplorable 
Flippancy    to<. 
Raifher   Anfe  1  m  • 

3—: — -L^n^a 

foreseeing  that 
before  the  next 
Crusade  came 
every  drop  of 

wine  in  his  cellar  would  be  swallowed  by  the 
Dragon  ;  "hear  me  proclaim  and  solemnly  prom 
ise  :  legend  true  or  legend  false,  my  daughter  shall 
not  face  this  risk.  But  if  her  heart  go  with  it, 
her  hand  shall  be  given  to  that  man  who  by  night 
or  light  brings  me  this  Dragon,  alive  or  dead  !" 

"  A  useless  promise,  Sir  Godfrey  !"  said  Father 
Anselm,  shrugging  his  shoulders.  "We  dare  not 
discredit  the  word  of  thy  respected  grandsire." 

"  My  respected  grandsire  be " 

"  What?"  said  the  Abbot. 

"  Became  a  credit  to  his  family,"  said  the 
Baron,  quite  mildly;  "and  I  slight  no  word  of 
his.  But  he  did  not  contradict  this  legend  in  the 
vision,  I  think." 

"No,  he  did  not,  papa,"   Miss  Elaine  put  in. 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  85 

"  He  only  mentioned  another  way  of  getting  rid 
of  this  horrible  Dragon.  Now,  papa,  whatever 
you  may  say  about — about  my  heart  and  hand," 
she  continued  firmly,  "I  am  going  to  meet  the 
Monster  alone  myself,  to-night." 

"That  you  shall  not,"  said  Sir  Godfrey. 

"A  hundred  times  no  !"  said  a  new  voice  from 
the  crowd.  "I  will  meet  him  myself!" 

All  turned  and  saw  a  knight  pushing  his  way 
through  the  people. 

"  Who  are  you?"  inquired  the  Baron. 

The  stranger  bowed  haughtily ;  and  Elaine 
watched  him  remove  his  helmet,  and  reveal  un 
derneath  it  the  countenance  of  a  young  man  who 
turned  to  her,  and 

Why,  what's  this,  Elaine  ?  Why  does  every 
thing  seem  to  swim  and  grow  misty  as  his  eye 
meets  yours  ?  And  why  does  he  look  at  you  so, 
and  deeply  flush  to  the  very  rim  of  his  curly  hair  ? 
And  as  his  glance  grows  steadier  and  more  intent 
upon  your  eyes  that  keep  stealing  over  at  him, 
can  you  imagine  why  his  hand  trembles  on  the 
hilt  of  his  sword  ?  Don't  you  remember  what  the 
legend  said  ? 

8 


86  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

"Who  are  you?"  the  Baron  repeated,  impa 
tiently. 

"  I  am  Geoffrey,  son  of  Bertram  of  Poictiers," 
answered  the  young  man. 

"And  what,"  asked  Father  Anselm,  with  a 
certain  irony  in  his  voice,  "  does  Geoffrey,  son  of 
Bertram  of  Poictiers,  so  far  away  from  his  papa  in 
this  inclement  weather?" 

The  knight  surveyed  the  monk  for  a  moment, 
and  then  said,  "As  thou  art  not  my  particular 
Father  Confessor,  stick  to  those  matters  which 
concern  thee." 

This  reply  did  not  please  any  man  present,  for 
it  seemed  to  savour  of  disrespect.  But  Elaine 
lost  no  chance  of  watching  the  youth,  who  now 
stood  alone  in  the  middle  of  the  hall.  Sir  Francis 
detected  this,  and  smiled  with  a  sly  smile. 

"  Will  some  person  inquire  of  this  polite  young 
man,"  he  said,  "what  he  wishes  with  us  ?" 

"  Show  me  where  this  Dragon  of  Wantley 
comes,"  said  Geoffrey,  "for  I  intend  to  slay  him 
to-night." 

"  Indeed,  sir,"  fluttered  Elaine,  stepping  to 
wards  him  a  little,  "  I  hope — that  is,  I  beg  you'll 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  87 

do  no  such  dangerous  thing  as  that  for  my 
sake." 

"For  your  sake?"  Father  Anselm  broke  in. 
"  For  your  sake  ?  And  why  so  ?  What  should 
Elaine,  daughter  of  Sir  Godfrey  Disseisin,  care 
for  the  carcase  of  Geoffrey,  son  of  Bertram  of 
Poictiers  ?" 

But  Elaine,  finding  nothing  to  answer,  turned 
rosy  pink  instead. 

"  That  rules  you  out !"  exclaimed  the  Father, 
in  triumph.  "  Your  legend  demands  a  maid  who 
never  has  cared  for  any  man." 

"  Pooh  !"  said  Geoffrey,  "  leave  it  to  me." 

"  Seize  him  !"  shouted  Sir  Godfrey  in  a  rage. 
"  He  had  ruled  out  my  daughter."  Consistency 
had  never  been  one  of  the  Baron's  strong  points. 

"  Seize  him  !"  said  Father  Anselm.  "  He  out 
rages  Mother  Church." 

The  vassals  closed  up  behind  young  Geoffrey, 
who  was  pinioned  in  a  second.  He  struggled 
with  them  till  the  veins  stood  out  in  his  forehead 
in  blue  knots  ;  but,  after  all,  one  young  man  of 
twenty  is  not  much  among  a  band  of  stout  yeo 
men  ;  and  they  all  fell  in  a  heap  on  the  floor, 


88  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

pulling  and  tugging-  at  Geoffrey,  who  had  blacked 
several  eyes,  and  done  in  a  general  way  as  much 
damage  as  he  possibly  could  under  the  circum 
stances. 

But  Elaine  noticed  one  singular  occurrence. 
Not  a  monk  had  moved  to  seize  the  young 
man,  except  one,  who  rushed  forward,  and  was 
stopped,  as  though  struck  to  stone,  by  Father 
Anselm's  saying  to  him  in  a  terrible  undertone, 
"  Hubert !" 

Simply  that  word,  spoken  quickly  ;  but  not 
before  this  Hubert  had  brushed  against  her  so 
that  she  was  aware  that  there  was  something  very 
hard  and  metallic  underneath  his  gray  gown. 
She  betrayed  no  sign  of  knowledge  or  surprise 
on  her  face,  however,  but  affected  to  be  absorbed 
wholly  in  the  fortunes  of  young  Geoffrey,  whom 
she  saw  collared  and  summarily  put  into  a  cage- 
like  prison  whose  front  was  thick  iron  bars,  and 
whose  depth  was  in  the  vast  outer  wall  of  the 
Monastery,  with  a  little  window  at  the  rear,  cov 
ered  with  snow.  The  spring-lock  of  the  gate 
shut  upon  him. 

"And  now,"  said  Father  Anselm,  as  the  Mon- 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


89 


astery  bell  sounded  once  more,  "if  our  guests 
will  follow  us,  the  mid-day  meal  awaits  us  below. 
We  will  deal  with  this  hot-head  later,"  he  added, 
pointing  to  the  prisoner. 

So   they   slowly   went    out,    leaving    Geoffrey 
alone  with  his  thoughts. 


8* 


Something 
Importance^ 


OWN  stairs  the  Grace 
was  said,  and  the  com 
pany  was  soon  seated 
and  ready  for  their  mid 
day  meal. 

"Our  fare,"  said 
Father  Anselm  pleasantly  to  Sir  Godfrey,  who 
sat  on  his  right,  "is  plain,  but  substantial." 

"Oh — ah,  very  likely,"  replied  the  Baron,  as 
he  received  a  wooden  basin  of  black-bean  broth. 

"  Our  drink  is " 

The  Baron  lifted  his  eye  hopefully. 

" remarkably  pure  water,"  Father  Anselm 

continued.  "  Clement !"  he  called  to  the  monk 
whose  turn  it  was  that  day  to  hand  the  dishes, 
"  Clement,  a  goblet  of  our  well-water  for  Sir 
Godfrey  Disseisin.  One  of  the  large  goblets, 
Clement.  We  are  indeed  favoured,  Baron,  in 
having  such  a  pure  spring  in  the  midst  of  our 
home." 

91 


92  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

"  Oh — ah  !"  observed  the  Baron  again,  and  po 
litely  nerved  himself  for  a  swallow.  But  his 
thoughts  were  far  away  in  his  own  cellar  over  at 
Wantley,  contemplating  the  casks  whose  precious 
gallons  the  Dragon  had  consumed.  Could  it  be 
the  strength  of  his  imagination,  or  else  why  was 
it  that  through  the  chilling,  unwelcome  liquid  he 
was  now  drinking  he  seemed  to  detect  a  lurking 
flavour  of  the  very  wine  those  casks  had  con 
tained,  his  favourite  Malvoisie  ? 

Father  Anselm  noticed  the  same  taste  in  his 
own  cup,  and  did  not  set  it  down  to  imagination, 
but  afterwards  sentenced  Brother  Clement  to 
bread  and  water  during  three  days,  for  careless 
ness  in  not  washing  the  Monastery  table-service 
more  thoroughly. 

"  This  simple  food  keeps  you  in  beautiful  health, 
Father,"  said  Mistletoe,  ogling  the  swarthy  face 
of  the  Abbot  with  an  affection  that  he  duly  noted. 

"  My  daughter,"  he  replied,  gravely,  "bodily 
infirmity  is  the  reward  of  the  glutton.  I  am  well, 
thank  you." 

Meanwhile,  Elaine  did  not  eat  much.  Her 
thoughts  were  busy,  and  hurrying  over  recent 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  93 

events.  Perhaps  you  think  she  lost  her  heart  in 
the  last  Chapter,  and  cannot  lose  it  in  this  one 
unless  it  is  given  back  to  her.  But  I  do  not 
agree  with  you  ;  and  I  am  certain  that,  if  you 
suggested  such  a  notion  to  her,  she  would  be 
come  quite  angry,  and  tell  you  not  to  talk  such 
foolish  nonsense.  People  are  so  absurd  about 
hearts,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing !  No  :  I  do  not 
really  think  she  has  lost  her  heart  yet ;  but  as 
she  sits  at  table  these  are  the  things  she  is 
feeling : 

1.  Not  at  all  hungry. 

2.  Not  at  all  thirsty. 

3.  What  a  hateful  person  that  Father  Anselm 
is! 

4.  Poor,  poor  young  man  ! 

5.  Not  that  she  thinks  of  him  in  that  way,  of 
course.     The  idea  !     Horrid  Father  Anselm  ! 

6.  Any  girl  at  all — no,  not  girl,  anybody  at  all 
— who  had  human  justice  would  feel  exactly  as 
she  did  about  the  whole  matter. 

7.  He  was  very  good-looking,  too. 

8.  Did  he  have — yes,  they  were  blue.     Very, 
very  dark  blue. 


94  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

9.  And  a  moustache  ?     Well,  yes. 

Here  she  laughed,  but  no  one  noticed  her 
idling  with  her  spoon.  Then  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears,  and  she  pretended  to  be  absorbed  with  the 
black-bean  broth,  though,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  she 
did  not  see  it  in  the  least. 

10.  Why  had  he  come  there  at  all  ? 

1 1 .  It  was  a  perfect  shame,  treating  him  so. 

12.  Perhaps    they    were    not    blue,    after    all. 
But,  oh  !  what  a  beautiful  sparkle  was  in  them  ! 

After  this,  she  hated  Father  Anselm  worse  than 
ever.  And  the  more  she  hated  him,  the  more 
some  very  restless  delicious  something  made  her 
draw  long  breaths.  She  positively  must  go  up 
stairs  and  see  what  He  was  doing  and  what  He 
really  looked  like.  This  curiosity  seized  hold  of 
her  and  set  her  thinking  of  some  way  to  slip  away 
unseen.  The  chance  came  through  all  present 
becoming  deeply  absorbed  in  what  Sir  Godfrey 
was  saying  to  Father  Anselm. 

"  Such  a  low,  coarse,  untaught  brute  as  a 
dragon,"  he  explained,  "cannot  possibly  distin 
guish  good  wine  from  bad." 

"  Of  a  surety,  no  !"  responded  the  monk. 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  95 

"You  agree  with  me  upon  that  point?"  said 
the  Baron. 

"  Most  certainly.     Proceed." 

"  Well,  I'm  going  to  see  that  he  gets  nothing 
but  the  cider  and  small  beer  after  this." 

"  But  how  will  you  prevent  him,  if  he  visit  your 
cellar  again  ?"  Father  Anselm  inquired. 

"  I  shall  change  all  the  labels,  in  the  first 
place,"  the  Baron  answered. 

"  Ha  !  vastly  well  conceived,"  said  Father  An 
selm.  "You  will  label  your  Burgundy  as  if  it 
were  beer." 

"  And  next,"  continued  Sir  Godfrey,  "  I  shall 
shift  the  present  positions  of  the  hogsheads. 
That  I  shall  do  to-day,  after  relabelling.  In  the 
northern  corner  of  the  first  wine  vault  I 
shall " 

Just  as  he  reached  this  point,  it  was  quite 
wonderful  how  strict  an  attention  every  monk 
paid  to  his  words.  They  leaned  forward,  forget 
ting  their  dinner,  and  listened  with  all  their 
might. 

One  of  them,  who  had  evidently  received  an 
education,  took  notes  underneath  the  table. 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 


^he  Baron  fettefh  forfh  his  Plan  for  circumuenting  fheDfa 


Thus    it   was    that    Elaine    escaped    observation 
when  she  left  the  refectory. 

As  she  came  up-stairs  into  the  hall  where  Geof 
frey  was  caged,  she  stepped  lightly  and  kept 
where  she  could  not  be  seen  by  him.  All  was 
quiet  when  she  entered  ;  but  suddenly  she  heard 
the  iron  bars  of  the  cage  begin  to  rattle  and 
shake,  and  at  the  same  time  Geoffrey's  voice 
broke  out  in  rage. 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  97 

"I'll  twist  you  loose,"  he  said,  "you — (rattle, 

shake) — you — (kick,  bang) "  And  here  the 

shocking  young  man  used  words  so  violent  and 
wicked  that  Elaine  put  her  hands  tight  over  her 
ears.  "Why,  he  is  just  as  dreadful  as  papa,  just 
exactly!"  she  exclaimed  to  herself.  ''Whoever 
would  have  thought  that  that  angelic  face — but  I 
suppose  they  are  all  like  that  sometimes."  And 
she  took  her  hands  away  again. 

"Yes,  I  will  twist  you  loose,"  he  was  growl 
ing  hoarsely,  while  the  kicks  and  wrenches  grew 
fiercer  than  ever,  "or  twist  myself  stark,  staring 
blind— and " 

"  Oh,  sir !"  she  said,  running  out  in  front  of  the 
cage. 

He  stopped  at  once,  and  stood  looking  at 
her.  His  breast-plate  and  gauntlets  were  down 
on  the  floor,  so  his  muscles  might  have  more  easy 
play  in  dealing  with  the  bars.  Elaine  noticed 
that  the  youth's  shirt  was  of  very  costly  Eastern 
silk. 

"I  was  thinking  of  getting  out,"  he  said  at 
length,  still  standing  and  looking  at  her. 

"  I  thought  I  might — that  is — you  might " 


98  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

began  Miss  Elaine,  and  stopped.  Upon  which 
another  silence  followed. 

"  Lady,  who  sent  you  here?"  he  inquired. 

"  Oh,  they  don't  know !"  she  replied,  hastily ; 
and  then,  seeing  how  bright  his  face  became,  and 
hearing  her  own  words,  she  looked  down,  and 
the  crimson  went  over  her  cheeks  as  he  watched 
her. 

"  Oh,  if  I  could  get  out !"  he  said,  desperately. 
"  Lady,  what  is  your  name,  if  I  might  be  so  bold." 

"My  name,  sir,  is  Elaine.  Perhaps  there  is  a 
key  somewhere,"  she  said. 

"And  I  am  called  Geoffrey,"  he  said,  in  reply. 

"  I  think  we  might  find  a  key,"  Elaine  repeated. 

She  turned  towards  the  other  side  of  the  room, 
and  there  hung  a  great  bunch  of  brass  keys  dan 
gling  from  the  lock  of  a  heavy  door. 

Ah,  Hubert !  thou  art  more  careless  than 
Brother  Clement,  I  think,  to  have  left  those  keys 
in  such  a  place  ! 

Quickly  did  Elaine  cross  to  that  closed  door, 
and  laid  her  hand  upon  the  bunch.  The  door 
came  open  the  next  moment,  and  she  gave  a 
shriek  to  see  the  skin  of  a  huge  lizard-beast  fall 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  99 

forward  at  her  feet,  and  also  many  cups  and 
flagons,  that  rolled  over  the  floor,  dotting  it  with 
little  drops  of  wine. 

Hearing  Elaine  shriek,  and  not  able  to  see  from 
his  prison  what  had  befallen  her,  Geoffrey  shouted 
out  in  terror  to  know  if  she  had  come  to  any  hurt. 

"No,"  she  told  him;  and  stood  eyeing  first 
the  crocodile's  hide  and  then  the  cups,  setting 
her  lips  together  very  firmly.  "And  they  were 
not  even  dry,"  she  said  after  a  while.  For  she 
began  to  guess  a  little  of  the  truth. 

"  Not  dry  ?     Who  ?"  inquired  Geoffrey. 

"  Oh,  Geoffrey  !"  she  burst  out  in  deep  anger, 
and  then  stopped,  bewildered.  But  his  heart 
leaped  to  hear  her  call  his  name. 

"  Are  there  no  keys  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Keys  ?  Yes  !"  she  cried,  and,  running  with 
them  back  to  the  bars,  began  trying  one  after 
another  in  trembling  haste  till  the  lock  clicked 
pleasantly,  and  out  marched  young  Geoffrey. 

Now  what  do  you  suppose  this  young  man  did 
when  he  found  himself  free  once  more,  and 
standing  close  by  the  lovely  young  person  to 
whom  he  owed  his  liberty?  Did  he  place  his 


100  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

heels  together,  and  let  his  arms  hang  gracefully, 
and  so  bow  with  respect  and  a  manner  at  once 
dignified  and  urbane,  and  say,  "  Miss  Elaine,  per 
mit  me  to  thank  you  for  being  so  kind  as  to  let 
me  out  of  prison?"  That  is  what  he  ought  to 
have  done,  of  course,  if  he  had  known  how  to 
conduct  himself  like  a  well-brought-up  young 
man.  But  I  am  sorry  to  have  to  tell  you  that 
Geoffrey  did  nothing  of  the  sort,  but,  instead  of 
that,  behaved  in  a  most  outrageous  manner.  He 
did  not  thank  her  at  all.  He  did  not  say  one 
single  word  to  her.  He  simply  put  one  arm 
round  her  waist  and  gave  her  a  kiss  ! 

"  Geoffrey  !"  she  murmured,  "  don't !" 

But  Geoffrey  did,  with  the  most  astonishing 
and  complacent  disobedience. 

"  Oh,  Geoffrey !"  she  whispered,  looking  the 
other  way,  "how  wrong  of  you  !  And  of  me!" 
she  added  a  little  more  softly  still,  escaping  from 
him  suddenly,  and  facing  about. 

"I  don't  see  that,"  said  Geoffrey.  "I  love 
you,  Elaine.  Elaine,  darling,  I " 

"Oh,  but  you  mustn't!"  answered  she,  step 
ping  back  as  he  came  nearer. 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 


IOI 


Qcoffrcy  tuggcfh  at  fhe   Bars) . \ 

I    ft  tH    kV.'tl    *i 


This  was  simply 
frightful  \  And  so 
sudden.  To  think  of 
her  —  Elaine  \  —  but 
she  couldn't  think  at 
all.  Happy?  Why, 
how  wicked  \  How 
had  she  ever 

"  No,  you  must 
not,"  she  repeated, 
and  backed  away 
still  farther. 

"  But  I  will  I"  said 
this  lover,  quite  loudly,  and  sprang  so  quickly  to 
where  she  stood  that  she  was  in  his  arms  again, 
and  this  time  without  the  faintest  chance  of  get 
ting  out  of  them  until  he  should  choose  to  free  her. 

It  was  no  use  to  struggle  now,  and  she  was 
still,  like  some  wild  bird.  But  she  knew  that  she 
was  really  his,  and  was  glad  of  it.  And  she 
looked  up  at  him  and  said,  very  softly,  "  Geof 
frey,  we  are  wasting  time." 

9* 


102  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

"  Oh,  no,  not  at  all,"  said  Geoffrey. 

"  But  we  are." 

"  Say  that  you  love  me." 

"  But  haven't  I — ah,  Geoffrey,  please  don't 
begin  again." 

"  Say  that  you  love  me." 

She  did. 

Then,  taking  his  hand,  she  led  him  to  the  door 
she  had  opened.  He  stared  at  the  crocodile,  at 
the  wine-cups,  and  then  he  picked  up  a  sheet  of 
iron  and  a  metal  torch. 

"I  suppose  it  is  their  museum,"  he  said; 
"  don't  you  ?" 

"  Their  museum  !     Geoffrey,  think  a  little." 

"They  seem  to  keep  very  good  wine,"  he  re 
marked,  after  smelling  at  the  demijohn. 

"Don't  you  see?  Can't  you  understand?" 
she  said. 

"  No,  not  a  bit.  What's  that  thing,  do  you 
suppose?"  he  added,  giving  the  crocodile  a  kick. 

"  Oh,  me,  but  men  are  simple,  men  are 
simple !"  said  Elaine,  in  despair.  "  Geoffrey, 
listen  !  That  wine  is  my  father's  wine,  from  his 
own  cellar.  There  is  none  like  it  in  all  England." 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  1 03 

"Then  I  don't  see  why  he  gave  it  to  a  parcel 
of  monks,"  replied  the  young  man. 

Elaine  clasped  her  hands  in  hopelessness,  gave 
him  a  kiss,  and  became  mistress  of  the  situation. 

"Now,  Geoffrey,"  she  said,  "I  will  tell  you 
what  you  and  I  have  really  found  out."  Then 
she  quickly  recalled  all  the  recent  events.  How 
her  father's  cellar  had  been  broken  into  ;  how 
Mistletoe  had  been  chained  to  a  rock  for  a  week 
and  no  dragon  had  come  near  her.  She  bade 
him  remember  how  just  now  Father  Anselm  had 
opposed  every  plan  for  meeting  the  Dragon,  and 
at  last  she  pointed  to  the  crocodile. 

"  Ha !"  said  Geoffrey,  after  thinking  for  a 
space.  "Then  you  mean " 

"Of  course  I  do,"  she  interrupted.  "The 
Dragon  of  Wantley  is  now  down-stairs  with  papa 
eating  dinner,  and  pretending  he  never  drinks 
anything  stronger  than  water.  What  do  you  say 
to  that,  sir?" 

"  This  is  a  foul  thing !"  cried  the  knight. 

"  Here  have  I  been  damnably  duped.  Here " 

but  speech  deserted  him.  He  glared  at  the  croc 
odile  with  a  bursting  countenance,  then  drove  his 


104  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

toe  against  it  with  such  vigour  that  it  sailed  like 
a  foot-ball  to  the  farther  end  of  the  hall. 

"  Papa  has  been  duped,  and  everybody,"  said 
Elaine.  "  Papa's  French  wine " 

"  They  swore  to  me  in  Flanders  I  should  find 
a  real  dragon  here,"  he  continued,  raging  up 
and  down,  and  giving  to  the  young  lady  no  part 
of  his  attention.  She  began  to  fear  he  was  not 
thinking  of  her. 

"Geoffrey "  she  ventured. 

"They  swore  it.  They  had  invited  me  to 
hunt  a  dragon  with  them  in  Flanders, — Count 
Faux  Pas  and  his  Walloons.  We  hunted  day 
and  night,  and  the  quest  was  barren.  They  then 
directed  me  to  this  island  of  Britain,  in  which 
they  declared  a  dragon  might  be  found  by  any 
man  who  so  desired.  They  lied  in  their  throats. 
I  have  come  leagues  for  nothing."  Here  he 
looked  viciously  at  the  distant  hide  of  the  croco 
dile.  "But  I  shall  slay  the  monk,"  he  added. 
"A  masquerading  caitiff!  Lying  varlets  !  And 
all  for  nothing !  The  monk  shall  die,  however." 

"  Have  you  come  for  nothing,  Geoffrey  ?" 
murmured  Elaine. 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  105 

"  Three  years  have  I  been  seeking  dragons  in 
all  countries,  chasing  deceit  over  land  and  sea. 
And  now  once  more  my  dearest  hope  falls  empty 
and  stale.  Why,  what's  this?"  A  choking 
sound  beside  him  stopped  the  flow  of  his  com 
plaints. 

"  Oh,  Geoffrey, — oh,  miserable  me  !"  The 
young  lady  was  dissolved  in  tears. 

"  Elaine — dearest — don't." 

"  You  said  you  had  come  for  n — nothing,  and 
it  was  all  st — stale." 

"  Ha,  I  am  a  fool,  indeed !  But  it  was  the 
Dragon,  dearest.  I  had  made  so  sure  of  an 
honest  one  in  this  adventure." 

"Oh,  oh!"  went  Miss  Elaine,  with  her  head 
against  his  shoulder. 

"  There,  there !  You're  sweeter  than  all  the 
dragons  in  the  world,  my  little  girl,"  said  he. 
And  although  this  does  not  appear  to  be  a  great 
compliment,  it  comforted  her  wonderfully  in  the 
end  ;  for  he  said  it  in  her  ear  several  times  with 
out  taking  his  lips  away.  "  Yes,"  he  continued, 
"  I  was  a  fool.  By  your  father's  own  word  you're 
mine.  I  have  caught  the  Dragon.  Come,  my 


106  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

girl !  We'll  down  to  the  refectory  forthwith  and 
denounce  him." 

With  this,  he  seized  Elaine's  hand  and  hastily 
made  for  the  stairs. 

"  But  hold,  Geoffrey,  hold  !  Oh — I  am  driven 
to  act  not  as  maidens  should,"  sighed  Elaine. 
"  He  it  is  who  ought  to  do  the  thinking.  But, 
dear  me  !  he  does  not  know  how.  Do  you  not 
see  we  should  both  be  lost,  were  you  to  try  any 
such  wild  plan  ?" 

"  Not  at  all.  Your  father  would  give  you  to 
me." 

"  Oh,  no,  no,  Geoffrey ;  indeed,  papa  would 
not.  His  promise  was  about  a  dragon.  A  live 
or  a  dead  dragon  must  be  brought  to  him.  Even 
if  he  believed  you  now,  even  if  that  dreadful 
Father  Anselm  could  not  invent  some  lie  to  put 
us  in  the  wrong,  you  and  I  could  never — that  is 
— papa  would  not  feel  bound  by  his  promise 
simply  because  you  did  that.  There  must  be  a 
dragon  somehow." 

"  How  can  there  be  a  dragon  if  there  is  not  a 
dragon?"  asked  Geoffrey. 

"Wait,  wait,  Geoffrey!     Oh,  how  can  I  think 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

of  everything  all  at  once?"  and  Elaine  pressed 
her  hands  to  her  temples. 

"  Darling,"  said  the  knight,  with  his  arms  once 
more  around  her,  "let  us  fly  now." 

"  Now  ?     They  would  catch  us  at  once." 

"  Catch  us  !  not  they  !  with  my  sword " 

"  Now,  Geoffrey,  of  course  you  are  brave. 
But  do  be  sensible.  You  are  only  one.  No ! 
I  won't  even  argue  such  nonsense.  They  must 
never  know  about  what  we  have  been  doing  up 
here ;  and  you  must  go  back  into  that  cage  at 
once." 

"What,  and  be  locked  up,  and  perhaps  mur 
dered  to-night,  and  never  see  your  face  again  ?" 

"  But  you  shall  see  me  again,  and  soon.  That 
is  what  I  am  thinking  about." 

"  How  can  you  come  in  here,  Elaine?" 
"  You  must  come  to  me.  I  have  it !  To 
night,  at  half-past  eleven,  come  to  the  cellar-door 
at  the  Manor,  and  I  will  be  there  to  let  you  in. 
Then  we  can  talk  over  everything  quietly.  I 
have  no  time  to  think  now." 

"The  cellar!  at  the  Manor!  And  how,  pray, 
shall  I  get  out  of  that  cage?" 


108  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

"  Cannot  you  jump  from  the  little  window  at 
the  back?" 

Geoffrey  ran  in  to  see.  "  No,"  he  said,  re 
turning  ;  "  it  is  many  spans  from  the  earth." 

Elaine  had  hurried  into  the  closet,  whence  she 
returned  with  a  dusty  coil  of  rope.  "  Here, 
Geoffrey ;  quickly !  put  it  about  your  waist. 
Wind  it  so.  But  how  clumsy  you  are  !" 

He  stood  smiling  down  at  her,  and  she  very 
deftly  wound  the  cord  up  and  down,  over  and 
over  his  body,  until  its  whole  length  lay  comfort 
ably  upon  him. 

"  Now,  your  breast-plate,  quick  !" 

She  helped  him  put  his  armour  on  again  ;  and, 
as  they  were  engaged  at  that,  singing  voices 
came  up  the  stairs  from  the  distant  dining- 
hall. 

"The  Grace,"  she  exclaimed;  "they  will  be 
here  in  a  moment." 

Geoffrey  took  a  last  kiss,  and  bolted  into  his 
cage.  She,  with  the  keys,  made  great  haste  to 
push  the  crocodile  and  other  objects  once  more 
into  their  hiding-place.  Cups  and  flagons  and 
all  rattled  back  without  regard  to  order,  as  they 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  109 

had  already  been  flung  not  two  hours  before. 
The  closet-door  shut,  and  Elaine  hung  the  keys 
from  the  lock  as  she  had  found  them. 

"  Half-past  eleven,"  she  said  to  Geoffrey,  as 
she  ran  by  his  cage  towards  the  stairs. 

"  One  more,  darling, — please,  one !  through 
the  bars  !"  he  besought  her,  in  a  voice  so  tender, 
that  for  my  part  I  do  not  see  how  she  had  the 
heart  to  refuse  him.  But  she  continued  her  way, 
and  swiftly  descending  the  stairs  was  found  by 
the  company,  as  they  came  from  the  hall,  busily 
engaged  in  making  passes  with  Sir  Godfrey's 
sword,  which  he  had  left  leaning  near  the  door. 

"A  warlike  daughter,  Sir  Godfrey!"  said 
Father  Anselm. 

"  Ah,  if  I  were  a  man  to  go  on  a  Crusade !" 
sighed  Miss  Elaine. 

"  Hast  thou,  my  daughter,"  said  Father  An 
selm,  "thought  better  of  thy  rash  intentions 
concerning  this  Dragon  ?" 

"  I  am  travelling  towards  better  thoughts, 
Father,"  she  answered. 

But  Sir  Francis  did  not  wholly  believe  the 
young  lady  ;  and  was  not  at  rest  until  Sir  God- 

10 


110  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

frey  assured  him  her  good  conduct  should  be  no 
matter  of  her  own  choosing. 

"You  see,"  insinuated  the  Abbot,  "so  sweet 
a  maid  as  yours  would  be  a  treat  for  the  unholy 
beast  A  meal  like  that  would  incline  him  to 
remain  in  a  neighbourhood  where  such  dainties 
were  to  be  found." 

"I'll  have  no  legends  and  fool's  tricks,"  ex 
claimed  the  Baron.  "  She  shall  be  locked  in  her 
room  to-night." 

"  Not  if  she  can  help  it,"  thought  Miss  Elaine. 
Her  father  had  imprudently  spoken  too  loud. 

" 'Twere  a  wise  precaution,"  murmured  Father 
Anselm.  "What  are  all  the  vintages  of  this 
earth  by  the  side  of  a  loving  daughter  ?" 

"  Quite  so,  quite  so  !"  Sir  Godfrey  assented. 
"Don't  you  think,"  he  added,  wistfully,  "that 
another  Crusade  may  come  along  soon  ?" 

"Ah,  my  son,  who  can  say?  Tribulation  is 
our  meted  heritage.  Were  thy  thoughts  more 
high,  the  going  of  thy  liquors  would  not  cause 
thee  such  sorrow.  Learn  to  enjoy  the  pure  cold 
water." 

"Good-afternoon,"  said  the  Baron. 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


Ill 


When  all  the  guests  had  departed  and  the  door 
was  shut  safe  behind  them,  the  Father  and  his 
holy  companions  broke  into  loud  mirth.  "The 
Malvoisie  is  drunk  up,"  said  they;  "to-night 
we'll  pay  his  lordship's  cellars  another  visit." 


fCSh. 

whai 

curious 

ThJtifs 

you  way 
£r  f  -f* 
*  ice, if 

.you  don't   So    to  Bed  when  vou 

s-        A       **-?-— -^^*r^-*. ***•  s~^. **r*~^  ^**-t~~^  _. 

are  fent 


O  have  steered  a  sudden 
course  among  dangerous 
rocks  and  rapids  and 
come  safe  through,  puts 
in  the  breast  of  the 
helmsman  a  calm  con 
tent  with  himself,  for  which  no  man  will  blame 
him.  What  in  this  world  is  there  so  lifts  one 
into  complacency  as  the  doing  of  a  bold  and 
cool-headed  thing?  Let  the  helmsman  sleep 
sound  when  he  has  got  to  land !  But  if  his 
content  overtake  him  still  on  the  water,  so  that 
he  grows  blind  to  the  treacherous  currents  that 
eddy  where  all  looks  placid  to  the  careless  eye, 
let  him  beware ! 

Sir  Francis  came  in  front  of  the  cage  where 
sat  young  Geoffrey  inside,  on  the  floor.  The 
knight  had  put  his  head  down  between  his  knees, 
and  seemed  doleful  enough. 

"Aha!"  thought  Sir  Francis,   giving  the  mo- 

h  IO*  113 


114  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANT  LEY. 

tionless  figure  a  dark  look,  "my  hawk  is  moult 
ing.  We  need  scarcely  put  a  hood  on  such  a 
tersel." 

Next  he  looked  at  the  shut  door  of  the  closet, 
and  a  shaft  of  alarm  shot  through  him  to  see  the 
keys  hanging  for  anybody  to  make  use  of  them 
that  pleased.  He  thought  of  Elaine,  and  her 
leaving  the  table  without  his  seeing  her  go. 
What  if  she  had  paid  this  room  a  visit  ? 

"  Perhaps  that  bird  with  head  under  wing  in 
there,"  he  mused,  looking  once  more  at  Geoffrey, 
"  is  not  the  simple-witted  nestling  he  looks.  My 
son  !"  he  called. 

But  the  youth  did  not  care  to  talk,  and  so 
showed  no  sign. 

"  My  son,  peace  be  with  you  !"  repeated  Father 
Anselm,  coming  to  the  bars  and  wearing  a  be 
nevolent  mien. 

Geoffrey  remained  quite  still. 

"If  repentance  for  thy  presumption  hath  vis 
ited  thee "  went  on  the  Father 

"  Hypocrite  !"  was  the  word  that  jumped  to  the 
youth's  lips  ;  but  fortunately  he  stopped  in  time, 
and  only  moved  his  legs  with  some  impatience. 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  115 

"I  perceive  with  pain,  my  son,"  said  Father 
Anselm,  "that  repentance  hath  not  yet  visited 
thee.  Well,  'twill  come.  And  that's  a  blessing 
too,"  he  added,  sighing  very  piously. 

"He  plays  a  part  pretty  well,"  thought  Geof 
frey  as  he  listened.  "  So  will  I."  Then  he 
raised  his  head. 

"How  long  am  I  to  stay  in  this  place?"  he 
inquired,  taking  a  tone  of  sullen  humour,  such 
as  he  thought  would  fit  a  prisoner. 

"  Certainly  until  thy  present  unbridled  state 
of  sin  is  purged  out  of  thee,"  replied  the  Father. 

"Under  such  a  dose  as  thou  art,"  Geoffrey 
remarked,  "that  will  be  soon." 

"This  is  vain  talk,  my  son,"  said  the  Abbot. 
"Were  I  of  the  children  of  this  world,  my 
righteous  indignation " 

"  Pooh  !"  said  Geoffrey. 

" would  light  on  thee  heavily.  But  we 

who  have  renounced  the  world  and  its  rotten- 
.  ness"  (here  his  voice  fell  into  a  manner  of 
chanting)  "make  a  holiday  of  forgiving  injuries, 
and  find  a  pleasure  even  in  pain." 

"Open    this    door   then,"   Geoffrey  answered, 


Il6  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

"and    I'll    provide    thee  with  a  whole  week  of 

joy-" 

"Nay,"  said  Father  Anselm,  "I  had  never 
gathered  from  thy  face  that  thou  wert  such  a 
knave." 

"At  least  in  the  matter  of  countenances  I  have 
the  advantage  of  thee,"  the  youth  observed. 

"I  perceive,"  continued  the  Father,  "that  I 
must  instruct  thy  spirit  in  many  things, — sub 
mission,  among  others.  Therefore  thou  shalt 
bide  with  us  for  a  month  or  two." 

"That  I'll  not!"  shouted  Geoffrey,  forgetting 
his  role  of  prisoner. 

"She  cannot  unlock  thee,"  Father  Anselm 
said,  with  much  art  slipping  Elaine  into  the  dis 
course. 

Geoffrey  glared  at  the  Abbot,  who  now  hoped 
to  lay  a  trap  for  him  by  means  of  his  temper. 
So  he  went  further  in  the  same  direction.  "Her 
words  are  vainer  than  most  women's,"  he  said  ; 
"though  a  lover  would  trust  in  them,  of  course." 

The  knight  swelled  in  his  rage,  and  might  have 
made  I  know  not  what  unsafe  rejoinder  ;  but  the 
cords  that  Elaine  had  wound  about  him  naturally 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  117 

tightened  as  he  puffed  out,  and  seemed  by  their 
pressure  to  check  his  speech  and  bid  him  be  wary. 
So  he  changed  his  note,  and  said  haughtily,  "  Be 
cause  thy  cowl  and  thy  gown  shield  thee,  pre 
sume  not  to  speak  of  one  whose  cause  I  took  up 
in  thy  presence,  and  who  is  as  high  above  thee  in 
truth  as  she  is  in  every  other  quality  and  virtue." 
"This  callow  talk,  my  son,"  said  the  Abbot 
quietly,  "wearies  me  much.  Lay  thee  down  and 
sleep  thy  sulks  off,  if  thou  art  able."  Upon  this, 
he  turned  away  to  the  closet  where  hung  the 
brass  keys,  and  opened  the  door  a-crack.  He 
saw  the  hide  of  the  crocodile  leaning  against  it, 
and  the  overturned  cups.  "  Just  as  that  boy 
Hubert  packed  them,"  he  thought  to  himself  in 
satisfaction;  "no  one  has  been  prying  here.  I 
flatter  myself  upon  a  skilful  morning's  work. 
I  have  knocked  the  legend  out  of  the  Baron's 
head.  He'll  see  to  it  the  girl  keeps  away.  And 
as  for  yon  impudent  witling  in  the  cage,  we  shall 
transport  him  beyond  the  seas,  if  convenient ;  if 
not,  a  knife  in  his  gullet  will  make  him  forget  the 
Dragon  of  Wantley.  Truly,  I  am  master  of  the 
situation !"  And  as  his  self-esteem  grew,  the 


Il8  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

Grand  Marshal  rubbed  his  hands,  and  went  out 
of  the  hall,  too  much  pleased  with  himself  to 
notice  certain  little  drops  of  wine  dotted  here 
and  there  close  by  the  closet,  and  not  yet  quite 
dry,  which,  had  his  eye  fallen  upon  them,  might 
have  set  him  a-thinking. 

So  Geoffrey  was  left  in  his  prison  to  whatever 
comfort  meditation  might  bring  him ;  and  the 
monks  of  Oyster-le-Main  took  off  their  gowns, 
and  made  themselves  ready  for  another  visit  to 
the  wine-cellars  of  Wantley  Manor. 

The  day  before  Christmas  came  bleakly  to  its 
end  over  dingle  and  fen,  and  the  last  gray  light 
died  away.  Yet  still  you  could  hear  the  hissing 
snow  beat  down  through  the  bramble-thorn  and 
the  dry  leaves.  After  evening  was  altogether 
set  in,  Hubert  brought  the  knight  a  supper  that 
was  not  a  meal  a  hungry  man  might  be  over  joy 
ful  at  seeing  ;  yet  had  Hubert  (in  a  sort  of  fel 
lowship  towards  one  who  seemed  scarcely  longer 
seasoned  in  manhood  than  himself,  and  whom  he 
had  seen  blacken  eyes  in  a  very  valiant  manner) 
secretly  prepared  much  better  food  than  had  been 
directed  by  his  worship  the  Abbot. 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  119 

The  prisoner  feigned  sleep,  and  started  up  at 
the  rattle  which  the  plate  made  as  it  was  set 
down  under  his  bars. 

"  Is  it  morning?"  he  asked. 

"  Morning,  forsooth !"  Hubert  answered. 
"Three  more  hours,  and  we  reach  only  mid 
night."  And  both  young  men  (for  different 
reasons)  wished  in  their  hearts  it  were  later. 

"Thou  speakest  somewhat  curtly  for  a  friar," 
said  Geoffrey. 

"Alas,  I  am  but  a  novice,  brother,"  whined 
the  minstrel,  "  and  fall  easily  back  into  my  ancient 
and  godless  syntax.  There  is  food.  Pax  vobis- 
cum,  son  of  the  flesh."  Then  Hubert  went  over 
to  the  closet,  and  very  quietly  unlocking  the 
door  removed  the  crocodile  and  the  various  other 
implements  that  were  necessary  in  bringing  into 
being  the  dread  Dragon  of  Wantley.  He  carried 
them  away  to  a  remote  quarter  of  the  Monastery, 
where  the  Guild  began  preparations  that  should 
terrify  any  superstitious  witness  of  their  journey 
to  get  the  Baron's  wine.  Geoffrey,  solitary  and 
watchful  in  his  chilly  cage,  knew  what  work  must 
be  going  on,  and  waited  his  time  in  patience. 


I2O 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


At  supper  over  at 
Wantley  there  was  but 
slight  inclination  to 
polite  banter.  Only 
the  family  Chaplain, 
mindful  that  this  was 
Christmas  Eve,  at 
tempted  to  make  a 
little  small  talk  with 
Sir  Godfrey. 

"  Christmas,"  he  ob 
served  to  the  Baron, 
"  is  undoubtedly  com- 
ing." 

As  the  Baron  did 
not  appear  to  have  any  rejoinder  to  this,  the 
young  divine  continued,  pleasantly. 

"Though  indeed,"  he  said,  "we  might  make 
this  assertion  upon  any  day  of  the  three  hundred 
and  sixty-five,  and  (I  think)  remain  accurate." 

"The  celery,"  growled  the  Baron,  looking  into 
his  plate. 

"  Quite  so,"  cried  the  Chaplain,  cheerily.  He 
had  failed  to  catch  the  remark.  "  Though  of 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  121 

course  everything  does  depend  on  one's  point  of 
view,  after  all." 

"That  celery,  Whelpdale  !"  roared  Sir  Godfrey. 

The  terrified  Buttons  immediately  dropped  a 
large  venison  pasty  into  Mrs.  Mistletoe's  lap. 
She,  having  been  somewhat  tried  of  late,  began 
screeching.  Whelpdale  caught  up  the  celery, 
and  blindly  rushed  towards  Sir  Godfrey,  while 
Popham,  foreseeing  trouble,  rapidly  ascended  the 
sideboard.  The  Baron  stepped  out  of  Whelp- 
dale's  path,  and  as  he  passed  by  administered  so 
much  additional  speed  that  little  Buttons  flew 
under  the  curtained  archway  and  down  many 
painful  steps  into  the  scullery,  and  was  not  seen 
again  during  that  evening. 

When  Sir  Godfrey  had  reseated  himself,  it 
seemed  to  the  Rev.  Hucbald  (such  was  the 
Chaplain's  name)  that  the  late  interruption  might 
be  well  smoothed  over  by  conversation.  So  he 
again  addressed  the  Baron. 

"To  be  sure,"  said  he,  taking  a  manner  of 
sleek  clerical  pleasantry,  "  though  we  can  so 
often  say  'Christmas  is  coming,'  I  suppose  that  if 
at  some  suitable  hour  to-morrow  afternoon  I  said 

F  II 


122  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

to  you,  'Christmas  is  going,'  you  would  grant  it 
to  be  a  not  inaccurate  remark?"  The  Baron  ate 
his  dinner. 

"I  think  so,"  pursued  the  Rev.  Hucbald. 
"Yes.  And  by  the  way,  I  notice  with  pleasure 
that  this  snow,  which  falls  so  continually,  makes 
the  event  of  a  green  Christmas  most  improbable. 
Indeed, — of  course  the  proverb  is  familiar  to 
you  ?- — the  graveyards  should  certainly  not  be  fat 
this  season.  I  like  a  lean  graveyard,"  smiled  the 
Rev.  Hucbald. 

"  I  hate  a fool !"  exclaimed  Sir  Godfrey, 

angrily. 

After  this  the  family  fell  into  silence.  Sir  God 
frey  munched  his  food,  brooding  gloomily  over 
his  plundered  wine-cellar ;  Mrs.  Mistletoe  al 
lowed  fancy  to  picture  herself  wedded  to  Father 
Anselm,  if  only  he  had  not  been  a  religious 
person ;  and  Elaine's  thoughts  were  hovering 
over  the  young  man  who  sat  in  a  cage  till  time 
came  for  him  to  steal  out  and  come  to  her.  But 
the  young  lady  was  wonderfully  wise,  never 
theless. 

"  Papa,"  she  said,  as  they  left  the  banquet-hall, 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  123 

"if  it  is  about  me  you're  thinking,  do  not  be 
anxious  any  more  at  all." 

"Well,  well ;  what's  the  matter  now?"  said  the 
Baron. 

"  Papa,  dear,"  began  Elaine,  winsomely  pull 
ing  at  a  tassel  on  his  dining-coat,  "  do  you  know, 
I've  been  thinking." 

"  Think  some  more,  then,"  he  replied.  "  It  will 
come  easier  when  you're  less  new  at  it." 

"  Now,  papa  !  just  when  I've  come  to  say — 

when  I  want — when  you — it's  very  hard " 

and  here  the  artful  minx  could  proceed  no  fur 
ther,  but  turned  a  pair  of  shining  eyes  at  him, 
and  then  looked  the  other  way,  blinking  rap 
idly. 

"  Oh,  good  Lord  !"  muttered  Sir  Godfrey,  star 
ing  hard  at  the  wall. 

"  Papa — it's  about  the  Dragon — and  I've  been 
wrong.  Very  wrong.  Yes  ;  I  know  I  have.  I 
was  foolish."  She  was  silent  again.  Was  she 
going  to  cry,  after  all  ?  The  Baron  shot  a  ner 
vous  glance  at  her  from  the  corner  of  his  eye. 
Then  he  said,  "  Hum !"  He  hoped  very  fer 
vently  there  were  to  be  no  tears.  He  desired  to 


124  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

remain  in  a  rage,  and  lock  his  daughter  up,  and 
not  put  anything  into  her  stocking  this  Christmas 
Eve  ;  and  here  she  was,  threatening  to  be  sorry 
for  the  past,  and  good  for  the  future,  and  every 
thing  a  parent  could  wish.  Never  mind.  You 
can't  expect  to  get  off  as  easily  as  all  that.  She 
had  been  very  outrageous.  Now  he  would  be 
dignified  and  firm. 

"  Of  course  I  should  obey  Father  Anselm,"  she 
continued. 

"You  should  obey  me,"  said  Sir  Godfrey. 

"And  I  do  hope  another  Crusade  will  come 
soon.  Don't  you  think  they  might  have  one, 
papa?  How  happy  I  shall  be  when  your  wine 
is  safe  from  that  horrid  Dragon  !" 

"  Don't  speak  of  that  monster  !"  shouted  the 
Baron,  forgetting  all  about  firmness  and  dignity. 
"  Don't  dare  to  allude  to  the  reptile  in  my  pres 
ence.  Look  here  !"  He  seized  up  a  great  jug 
labelled  "  Chateau  Lafitte,"  and  turned  it  upside 
down. 

"Why,  it's  empty!"  said  Elaine. 

"  Ha  !"  snorted  the  Baron  ;  "  empty  indeed." 
Then  he  set  the  jug  down  wrong  side  up,  and 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY  125 

remained  glaring  at  it  fixedly,  while  his  chest  rose 
and  fell  in  deep  heavings. 

"Don't  mind  it  so  much,  papa,"  said  Elaine, 
coming  up  to  him.  "This  very  next  season  will 
Mistletoe  and  I  brew  a  double  quantity  of  cowslip 
wine." 

"  Brrrrooo  !"  went  Sir  Godfrey,  with  a  shiver. 

"  And  I'm  sure  they'll  have  another  Crusade 
soon  ;  and  then  my  brother  Roland  can  go,  and 
the  Drag —  and  the  curse  will  be  removed.  Of 
course,  I  know  that  is  the  only  way  to  get  rid  of 
it,  if  Father  Anselm  said  so.  I  was  very  foolish 
and  wrong.  Indeed  I  was,",  said  she,  and  looked 
up  in  his  face  with  eyes  where  shone  such  dear, 
good,  sweet,  innocent,  daughterly  affection,  that 
nobody  in  the  wide  world  could  have  suspected 
she  was  thinking  as  hard  as  she  could  think,  "If 
only  he  won't  lock  me  up  !  if  only  he  won't !  But, 
oh,  it's  dreadful  in  me  to  be  deceiving  him  so  !" 

"There,  there!"  said  the  Baron,  and  cleared 
his  throat.  Then  he  kissed  her.  Where  were 
firmness  and  dignity  now  ? 

He  let  her  push  him  into  the  chimney-corner, 
and  down  into  a  seat ;  and  then  what  did  this  sly, 

ii* 


126  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

shocking  girl  do  but  sit  on  his  knee  and  tell  him 
nobody  ever  had  such  a  papa  before,  and  she 
could  never  possibly  love  any  one  half  so  much 
as  she  loved  him,  and  weren't  he  and  she  going 
to  have  a  merry  Christmas  to-morrow  ? 

"How  about  that  pretty  young  man?  Hey? 
What?"  said  Sir  Godfrey,  in  high  good-humour. 

"Who?"  snapped  Elaine. 

"I  think  this  girl  knows,"  he  answered,  adopt 
ing  a  roguish  countenance. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  you  mean  that  little  fellow 
this  morning.  Pooh !" 

"  Ho  !  ho  !"  said  her  father.  "  Ho  !  ho  ! 
Little  fellow  !  He  was  a  pretty  large  fellow  in 
somebody's  eyes,  I  thought.  What  are  you  so 
red  about  ?  Ho  !  ho  !"  and  the  Baron  popped 
his  own  eyes  at  her  with  vast  relish. 

"Really,  papa,"  said  Miss  Elaine,  rising  from 
his  knee,  with  much  coldness,  "  I  hardly  under 
stand  you,  I  think.  If  you  find  it  amusing  (and 

you  seem  to)  to  pretend  that  I "  she  said  no 

more,  but  gave  a  slight  and  admirable  toss  of 
the  head.  "And  now  I  am  very  sleepy,"  she 
added.  "  What  hour  is  it  ?" 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

Sir  Godfrey  took  out  his  grandfather's  sun 
dial,  and  held  it  to  the  lamp.  "Bless  my  soul," 
he  exclaimed  ;  "it's  twenty-two  o'clock."  (That's 
ten  at  night  nowadays,  young  people,  and  much 
too  late  for  you  to  be  down-stairs,  any  of  you.) 

"Get  to  your  bed  at  once,"  continued  Sir 
Godfrey,  "or  you'll  never  be  dressed  in  time  for 
Chapel  on  Christmas  morning." 

So  Elaine  went  to  her  room,  and  took  off  her 
clothes,  and  hung  up  her  stocking  at  the  foot  of 
the  bed.  Did  she  go  to  sleep  ?  Not  she.  She 
laid  with  eyes  and  ears  wide  open.  And  now 
alone  here  in  the  dark,  where  she  had  nothing 
to  do  but  wait,  she  found  her  heart  beating  in 
answer  to  her  anxious  and  expectant  thoughts. 
She  heard  the  wind  come  blustering  from  far  off 
across  the  silent  country.  Then  a  snore  from 
Mistletoe  in  the  next  room  made  her  jump. 
Twice  a  bar  of  moonlight  fell  along  the  floor, 
wavering  and  weak,  then  sank  out,  and  the  pat 
of  the  snow-flakes  began  again.  After  a  while 
came  a  step  through  the  halls  to  her  door,  and 
stopped.  She  could  scarcely  listen,  so  hard  she 
was  breathing.  Was  her  father  going  to  turn 


128 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


the  key  in  her  door,  after 
all  ?  No  such  thought  was 
any  longer  in  his  mind. 
She  shut  her  eyes  quickly 
as  he  entered.  His  candle 
shone  upon  her  quiet  head, 
that  was  nearly  buried  out  of  sight ;  then  laughter 
shook  him  to  see  the  stocking,  and  he  went 
softly  out.  He  had  put  on  his  bed-room  slip 
pers  ;  but,  as  he  intended  to  make  a  visit  to  the 
cellar  before  retiring,  it  seemed  a  prudent  thing 
to  wear  his  steel  breast-plate  ;  and  over  this  he 
had  slipped  his  quilted  red  silk  dressing-gown, 
for  it  was  a  very  cold  night. 

Was  there  a  sound  away  off  somewhere  out- 
of-doors?  No.  He  descended  heavily  through 
the  sleeping  house.  When  the  candle  burned 
upright  and  clear  yellow,  his  gait  was  steady  ;  but 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  1 29 

he  started  many  times  at  corners  where  its  flame 
bobbed  and  flattened  and  shrunk  to  a  blue,  sickly 
rag  half  torn  from  the  wick.  "  Ouf !  Mort  d'aieul !" 
he  would  mutter.  "  But  I  must  count  my  wine 
to-night."  And  so  he  came  down  into  the  wide 
cellars,  and  trod  tiptoe  among  the  big  round  tuns. 
With  a  wooden  mallet  he  tapped  them,  and 
shook  his  head  to  hear  the  hollow  humming  that 
their  emptiness  gave  forth.  No  oath  came  from 
him  at  all,  for  the  matter  was  too  grievous.  The 
darkness  that  filled  everywhere  save  just  next  to 
the  candle,  pressed  harder  and  harder  upon  him. 
He  looked  at  the  door  which  led  from  inside 
here  out  into  the  night,  and  it  was  comfortable  to 
know  how  thick  were  the  panels  and  how  stout 
the  bolts  and  hinges. 

"I  can  hold  my  own  against  any  man,  and 
have  jousted  fairly  in  my  time,"  he  thought  to 
himself,  and  touched  his  sword.  "  But — um  !" 
The  notion  of  meeting  a  fiery  dragon  in  combat 
spoke  loudly  to  the  better  part  of  his  valour. 
Suddenly  a  great  rat  crossed  his  foot.  Ice  and 
fire  went  from  his  stomach  all  through  him,  and 
he  sprang  on  a  wooden  stool,  and  then  found  he 


130  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

was  shaking.  Soon  he  got  down,  with  sweaty 
hands. 

"Am  I  getting  a  coward?"  he  asked  aloud. 
He  seized  the  mallet  that  had  fallen,  and  struck 
a  good  knock  against  the  nearest  hogshead.  Ah 
— ha !  This  one,  at  least,  was  full.  He  twisted 
the  wooden  stop  and  drank  what  came,  from 
the  hollow  of  his  hand.  It  was  cowslip  wine. 
Ragingly  he  spluttered  and  gulped,  and  then 
kicked  the  bins  with  all  his  might.  While  he 
was  stooping  to  rub  his  toe,  who  should  march 
in  but  Miss  Elaine,  dressed  and  ready  for  young 
Geoffrey.  But  she  caught  sight  of  her  father  in 
time,  and  stepped  back  into  the  passage  in  a 
flutter.  Good  heavens  !  This  would  never  do. 
Geoffrey  might  be  knocking  at  the  cellar-door  at 
any  moment.  Her  papa  must  be  got  away  at 
once. 

"  Papa  !  papa  !"  she  cried,  running  in. 

Sir  Godfrey  sprang  into  the  air,  throwing  mal 
let  and  candle  against  the  wine-butts.  Then  he 
saw  it  was  only  his  daughter. 

"Wretched  girl  i  you — you — if  you  don't  want 
to  become  an  orphan,  never  tamper  like  that  with 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  131 

my  nerves  again  in  your  life.  What  are  you 
come  here  for  ?  How  dare  you  leave  your  bed 
at  such  an  hour?" 

"  Oh,  mercy  forgive  us  !"  whimpered  a  new 
voice. 

There  was  Mistletoe  at  the  door  of  the  passage, 
a  candle  lifted  high  above  her  head  and  wobbling, 
so  that  it  shook  the  grease  all  over  her  night-cap. 
With  the  other  hand  she  clutched  her  camisole, 
while  beneath  a  yellow  flannel  petticoat  her  fat 
feet  were  rocking  in  the  raw-wool  foot-mittens 
she  wore. 

"  Oh,  dear  :  oh,  Sir  Godfrey  !  Oh,  me  !"  said 
she. 

"Saint  Charity!  What  do  you  want?  Holy 
Ragbag,  what's  the  matter?  Is  everybody  in 
my  house  going  stark  mad?"  Here  the  Baron 
fell  over  the  stool  in  the  dark.  "  Give  me  my 
candle  !"  he  roared.  "  Light  my  candle  !  What 
business  have  either  of  you  to  come  here?" 

"  Please,  sir,  it's  Miss  Elaine  I  came  for.  Oh, 
me !  I'll  catch  my  death  of  cold.  Her  door 
shutting  waked  me  up-stairs.  «Oh,  dear !  Where 
are  we  coming  to  ?" 


132  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

"You  old  mattrass  !"  said  Sir  Godfrey.  Then 
he  turned  to  his  daughter.  But  this  young  lady 
had  had  a  little  time  to  gather  her  thoughts  in. 
So  she  cut  short  all  awkward  questionings  with 
excellent  promptness. 

"Papa!"  she  began,  breathlessly.  "There! 
I  heard  it  again  !" 

"Heard  it?  What?"  cried  the  Baron,  his 
eyes  starting. 

"  It  waked  me  up-stairs,  and  I  ran  to  get  you 
in  your  room,  and  you " 

"It — it?  What's  it?  What  waked  you?" 
broke  in  Sir  Godfrey,  his  voice  rising  to  a  shriek. 

"There  it  is  again!"  exclaimed  Elaine,  clasp 
ing  her  hands.  "He's  coming!  I  hear  him. 
The  Dragon  !  Oh  !" 

With  this,  she  pretended  to  rush  for  the  pas 
sage,  where  the  squeaks  of  Mistletoe  could  be 
heard  already  growing  distant  in  the  house. 
Away  bolted  Sir  Godfrey  after  her,  shouting  to 
Elaine  in  terror  undisguised,  "Lock  your  door! 
Lock  your  door  !"  as  he  fled  up-stairs. 

So  there  stood  Miss  Elaine  alone,  with  the 
coast  clear,  and  no  danger  from  these  two  cour- 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  133 

ageous  guardians.  Then  came  a  knock  from 
outside,  and  her  heart  bounded  as  she  ran 
through  the  cellar  and  undid  the  door. 

"  You  darling  !"  said  Geoffrey,  jumping  in  with 
legs  all  covered  with  snow.  He  left  the  door 
open  wide,  and  had  taken  four  or  five  kisses  at 
the  least  before  she  could  stop  him.  "  The  moon 
was  out  for  a  while,"  he  continued,  "and  the 
snow  stopped.  So  I  came  a  long  way  round 
about,  that  my  tracks  should  not  be  seen.  That's 
good  strategy." 

But  this  strange  young  lady  said  no  word,  and 
looked  at  him  as  if  she  were  going  to  cry. 

"  Why,, what's  the  matter,  dear?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  Geoffrey !    I  have  been  deceiving  papa  so." 

"  Pooh  !     It's  not  to  be  thought  of." 

"  But  I  can't  help  thinking.  I  never  supposed 
I  could  do  so.  And  it  comes  so  terribly  easy. 
And  I'm  not  a  bit  clever  when  I'm  good.  And — 
oh !"  She  covered  her  face  and  turned  away 
from  him. 

"Stuff  and  nonsense!"  Geoffrey  broke  out. 
"  Do  be  reasonable.  Here  is  a  dragon.  Isn't 
there?" 

12 


134  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

"Yes." 

''And  everybody  wants  to  get  rid  of  him?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  he's  robbing  your  father  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  So  you're  acting  for  your  father's  good?" 

"Y— yes." 

«  Then " 

"  Now,  Geoffrey,  all  your  talking  doesn't  hide 
the  badness  in  the  least  bit." 

She  was  silent  again  ;  then  suddenly  seemed 
greatly  relieved.  "I  don't  care,"  she  declared. 
"  Papa  locked  me  up  for  a  whole  week,  when  all 
I  wanted  was  to  help  him  and  everybody  get  rid 
of  the  Dragon.  And  I  am  too  old  to  be  treated 
so.  And  now  I  am  just  going  to  pretend  there's 
a  dragon  when  there's  not.  Oh,  what's  that  ?" 

This  time  it  was  no  sham.  Faint  and  far  from 
the  direction  of  Oyster-le-Main  came  the  roar  of 
the  Dragon  of  Wantley  over  fields  and  farms. 


(Contains 

i|a  Dilcn* 


twofiiiK 

ffe&ious  Horns 


UN  instantly  into  the 
house,"  said  Geoffrey  to 
Elaine,  and  he  dragged 
out  his  sword. 

But  she  stared  at  him, 
and  nothing  further. 

"Or  no.  Stay  here  and  see  me  kill  him,"  the 
boy  added,  pridefully. 

"  Kill  him  !"  said  she,  in  amazement.  "  Do 
you  suppose  that  papa,  with  all  his  experience, 
couldn't  tell  it  was  an  imitation  dragon  ?  And 
you  talk  of  strategy !  I  have  thought  much 
about  to-night, — and,  Geoffrey,  you  must  do  just 
the  thing  that  I  bid  you,  and  nothing  else. 
Promise." 

"  I  think  we'll  hear  first  what  your  wisdom  is," 
said  he,  shaking  his  head  like  the  sage  youth  that 
he  was. 

"  Promise  !"  she  repeated,  "  else  I  go  away  at 
136 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  137 

once,  and  leave  you.  Now !  One — two — 
thrrr " 

"  I  promise  !"  he  shouted. 

"  'Sh  !  Papa's  window  is  just  round  the  tower. 
Now,  sir,  you  must  go  over  yonder  within  those 
trees." 

-Where?" 

"There  where  the  snow  has  dipped  the 
branches  low  down.  And  leave  me  alone  in  the 
cellar  with  the  Dragon." 

"With  the  Dragon  ?  Alone?  I  did  not  know 
you  counted  me  a  lunatic,"  replied  Geoffrey. 
Then,  after  a  look  over  the  fields  where  the 
storm  was  swirling,  he  gave  attention  to  the 
point  of  his  sword. 

"Where's  your  promise?"  said  she.  "Will 
you  break  your  word  so  soon  ?" 

A  big  gust  of  wind  flung  the  snow  sharp 
against  their  faces. 

"  Did  you  expect "  began  the  young 

knight,  and  then  said  some  words  that  I  suppose 
gentlemen  in  those  old  times  were  more  prone 
to  use  before  ladies  than  they  are  to-day.  Which 
shows  the  optimists  are  right. 

12* 


138  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

Then,  still  distant,  but  not  so  distant,  came 
another  roar. 

"Geoffrey!"  Elaine  said,  laying  a  hand  upon 
his  arm  ;  "  indeed,  you  must  hear  me  now,  and 
make  no  delay  with  contrary  notions.  There  is 
no  danger  for  me.  Look.  He  will  first  be  by 
himself  to  clear  the  way  of  watchers.  No  one 
peeps  out  of  windows  when  the  Dragon's  howl 
ing.  Next,  the  rest  will  come  and  all  go  into 
papa's  cellar  for  the  wine.  But  we  must  get 
these  others  away,  and  that's  for  you."  She 
paused. 

"  Well  ?     Well  ?"  he  said. 

"  It  will  go  thus  :  the  passage  shall  hide  me, 
and  the  door  of  it  be  shut.  You'll  watch  over 
by  the  trees,  and  when  you  see  all  have  come 
inside  here,  make  some  sort  of  noise  at  the  edge 
of  the  wood." 

"What  sort  of  noise?" 

"  Oh, — not  as  if  you  suspected.  Seem  to  be 
passing  by.  Play  you  are  a  villager  going  home 
late.  When  they  hear  that,  they'll  run  away  for 
fear  of  their  secret.  The  Dragon  will  surely  stay 
behind." 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  139 

"  Why  will  he  stay  behind  ?  Why  will  they 
run  away  ?" 

"  Dear  Geoffrey,  don't  you  see  that  if  these 
men  were  to  be  seen  in  company  with  the 
Dragon  by  one  who  till  now  knew  them  as 
monks,  where  would  their  living  be  gone  to  ? 
Of  course,  they  will  get  themselves  out  of  sight, 
and  the  Dragon  will  remain  as  a  sort  of  human 
scarecrow.  Then  I'll  come  out  from  the  passage- 
door." 

"  One  woifld  almost  think  you  desired  that 
villain  to  kill  you,"  said  Geoffrey.  "  No,  indeed. 
I'll  not  consent  to  that  part." 

"How  shall  he  kill  me  here?"  Elaine  replied. 
"  Do  you  not  see  the  Dragon  of  Wantley  would 
have  to  carry  a  maiden  away?  He  would  not 
dare  to  put  me  to  the  sword.  When  I  come,  I 
shall  speak  three  words  to  him  Before  there  is 
time  for  him  to  think  what  to  do,  you  will  hear 
me  say  (for  you  must  have  now  run  up  from  the 
wood)  '  the  legend  has  come  true  !'  Then,  when 
I  tell  him  that,  do  you  walk  in  ready  with  your 
sword  to  keep  him  polite.  Oh,  indeed,"  said  the 
lady,  with  her  eyes  sparkling  on  Geoffrey,  "we 


I4O  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

must  keep  his  manners  good  for  him.  For  I 
think  he's  one  of  those  persons  who  might  turn 
out  very  rude  in  a  trying  situation." 

All  this  was  far  from  pleasing  to  young  Geof 
frey.  But  Elaine  showed  him  how  no  other  way 
was  to  be  found  by  which  Sir  Francis  could  be 
trapped  red-handed  and  distant  from  help.  While 
the  knight  was  bending  his  brows  down  with  try 
ing  to  set  his  thoughts  into  some  order  that 
should  work  out  a  better  device,  a  glare  shone 
over  the  next  hill  against  the  falling*  flakes. 

"  Quick  !"  said  Elaine. 

She  withdrew  into  the  cellar  on  the  instant, 
and  the  great  door  closed  between  them.  Geof 
frey  stood  looking  at  it  very  anxiously,  and  then 
walked  backwards,  keeping  close  to  the  walls, 
and  so  round  the  tower  and  into  the  court, 
whence  he  turned  and  ploughed  as  fast  as  he 
could  through  the  deep  drifts  till  he  was  inside 
the  trees.  "If  they  spy  my  steps,"  he  thought, 
"it  will  seem  as  though  some  one  of  the  house 
had  gone  in  there  to  secure  the  door." 

Once  more  the  glare  flashed  against  the 
swiftly-descending  curtains  of  the  storm.  Slowly 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  141 

it  approached,  sometimes  illuminating  a  tree- 
trunk  for  a  moment,  then  suddenly  gleaming  on 
the  white  mounds  where  rocks  lay  deeply  cloaked. 

"He  is  pretty  slow,"  said  Geoffrey,  shifting 
the  leg  he  was  leaning  on. 

A  black  mass  moved  into  sight,  and  from  it 
came  spoutings  of  fire  that  showed  dark,  jagged 
wings  heavily  flapping.  It  walked  a  little  and 
stopped ;  then  walked  again.  Geoffrey  could 
see  a  great  snout  and  head  rocking  and  turn 
ing.  Dismal  and  unspeakable  sounds  proceeded 
from  the  creature  as  it  made  towards  the  cellar- 
door.  After  it  had  got  close  and  leaned  against 
the  panels  in  a  toppling,  swaying  fashion,  came  a 
noise  of  creaking  and  fumbling,  and  then  the 
door  rolled  aside  upon  its  hinges.  Next,  the 
blurred  white  ridge  towards  Oyster-le-Main  was 
darkened  with  moving  specks  that  came  steadily 
near ;  and  man  by  man  of  the  Guild  reached 
the  open  door  crouching,  whispered  a  word  or 
two,  and  crept  inside.  They  made  no  sound 
that  could  be  heard  above  the  hissing  of  the 
downward  flakes  and  the  wind  that  moaned 
always,  but  louder  sometimes.  Only  Elaine, 


142 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 


with  her  ear  to 
the  cold  iron 
key-hole  of  the 
pas  sage-door, 
could  mark  the 
clink  of  armour, 
and  shivered  as 
she  stood  in  the 

dark.  And  now  the  cellar  is  full, — but  not  of 
gray  gowns.  The  candle  flames  show  little  glis 
tening  sparks  in  the  black  coats  of  mail,  and 
the  sight  of  themselves  cased  in  steel,  and  each 
bearing  an  empty  keg,  stirred  a  laughter  among 
them.  Then  the  kegs  were  set  down  without 
noise  on  the  earthy  floor  among  the  bins.  The 
Dragon  was  standing  on  his  crooked  scaly  hind- 
legs  ;  and  to  see  the  grim,  changeless  jaw  and 
eyes  brought  a  dead  feeling  around  the  heart. 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  143 

But  the  two  bungling  fore-paws  moved  upwards, 
shaking  like  a  machine,  and  out  of  a  slit  in  the 
hide  came  two  white  hands  that  lifted  to  one  side 
the  brown  knarled  mask  of  the  crocodile.  There 
was  the  black  head  of  Sir  Francis  Almoign. 
"  'Tis  hot  in  there,"  he  said  ;  and  with  two  fingers 
he  slung  the  drops  of  sweat  from  his  forehead. 

"Wet  thy  whistle  before  we  begin,"  said  Hu 
bert,  filling  a  jug  for  him.  Sir  Francis  took  it  in 
both  hands,  and  then  clutched  it  tightly  as  a 
sudden  singing  was  set  up  out  in  the  night. 

"  Come,  take  a  wife, 
Come,  take  a  wife, 
Ere  thou  learnest  age's  treasons  !" 

The  tune  came  clear  and  jolly,  cutting  through 
the  muffled  noises  of  the  tempest. 

"  Blood  and  death  !"  muttered  Hubert. 
Each  figure  had  sprung  into  a  stiff  position  of 
listening. 

"  Quit  thy  roving ; 

Shalt  by  loving 
Not  wax  lean  in  stormy  seasons. 

Ho  !  ho  !  oh,— ho  ! 
Not  wax  lean  in " 


144  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

Here  the  strain  snapped  off  short.  Then  a 
whining  voice  said,  "  Oh,  I  have  fallen  again  !  A 
curse  on  these  roots.  Lucifer  fell  only  once,  and 
'twas  enough  for  him.  I  have  looked  on  the 
wine  when  it  was  red,  and  my  dame  Jeanie  will 
know  it  soon,  oh,  soon  !  But  my  sober  curse  on 
these  roots." 

"That's  nothing,"  said  Hubert.  "There's  a 
band  of  Christmas  singers  has  strolled  into  these 
parts  to  chant  carols.  One  of  them  has  stopped 
too  long  at  the  tavern." 

"Do  I  see  a  light?"  said  the  voice.  "Help! 
Give  me  a  light,  and  let  me  go  home. 

"  Quit  thy  roving; 
Shalt  by  loving " 


"  Shall  I  open  his  throat,  that  he  may  sing  the 
next  verse  in  heaven  ?"  Hubert  inquired. 

"No,  fool!"  said  Sir  Francis.  "Who  knows 
if  his  brother  sots  are  not  behind  him  to  wake 
the  house?  This  is  too  dangerous  to-night. 
Away  with  you,  every  one.  Stoop  low  till  ye 
are  well  among  the  fields,  and  then  to  Oyster- 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  145 

le-Main !  I'll  be  Dragon  for  a  while,  and  follow 
after." 

Quickly  catching  up  his  keg,  each  man  left  the 
cellar  like  a  shadow.  Geoffrey,  from  the  edge 
of  the  wood,  saw  them  come  out  and  dissolve 
away  into  the  night.  With  the  tube  of  the  torch 
at  his  lips,  Sir  Francis  blew  a  blast  of  fire  out  at 
the  door,  then  covered  his  head  once  more  with 
the  grinning  crocodile.  He  roared  twice,  and 
heard  something  creak  behind  him,  so  turned  to 
see  what  had  made  it.  There  was  Miss  Elaine 
on  the  passage-steps.  Her  lips  moved  to  speak, 
but  for  a  short  instant  fear  put  a  silence  upon 
her  that  she  found  no  voice  to  break.  He,  with 
a  notion  she  was  there  for  the  sake  of  the  legend, 
waved  his  great  paws  and  trundled  towards 
where  she  was  standing. 

"  Do  not  forget  to  roar,  sir,"  said  the  young 
lady,  managing  her  voice  so  there  was  scarce  any 
tremble  to  be  heard  in  it. 

At  this  the  Dragon  stood  still. 

"You  perceive,"  she  said  to  him,  "after  all,  a 
dragon,  like  a  mouse,  comes  to  the  trap." 

"  Not  quite  yet,"  cried  Sir  Francis,  in  a  ter- 

G  k  13 


146  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

rible  voice,  and  rushed  upon  her,  meaning 
death. 

"The  legend  has  come  true!"  she  loudly 
said. 

A  gleaming  shaft  of  steel  whistled  across  the 
sight  of  Sir  Francis. 

"  Halt  there !"  thundered  Geoffrey,  leaping 
between  the  two,  and  posing  his  sword  for  a 
lunge. 

"  My  hour  has  come,"  Sir  Francis  thought. 
For  he  was  cased  in  the  stiff  hide,  and  could  do 
nothing  in  defence. 

"  Now  shalt  thou  lick  the  earth  with  thy  lying 
tongue,"  said  Geoffrey. 

A  sneer  came  through  the  gaping  teeth  of  the 
crocodile. 

"Valiant,  indeed!"  the  voice  said.  "Very 
valiant  and  knightly,  oh  son  of  Bertram  of  Poic- 
tiers  !  Frenchmen  know  when  to  be  bold.  Ha  ! 
ha!" 

"Crawl  out  of  that  nut,  thou  maggot,"  an 
swered  Geoffrey,  "and  taste  thy  doom." 

Here  was  a  chance,  the  gift  of  a  fool.  The 
two  white  hands  appeared  and  shifted  the  mask 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  147 

aside,  letting  them  see  a  cunning  hope  on  his 
face. 

"Do  not  go  further,  sir,"  said  Elaine.  "It  is 
for  the  good  of  us  all  that  you  abide  where  you 
are.  As  I  shall  explain." 

"What  is  this,  Elaine?"  said  Geoffrey. 

"  Your  promise  !"  she  answered,  lifting  a  finger 
at  him. 

There  was  a  dry  crack  from  the  crocodile's  hide. 

"  Villain  !"  cried  Geoffrey,  seizing  the  half- 
extricated  body  by  the  throat.  "Thy  false  skin 
is  honester  than  thyself,  and  warned  us.  Back 
inside !" 

The  robber's  eyes  shrivelled  to  the  size  of  a 
snake's,  as,  with  no  tenderness,  the  youth  grap 
pled  with  him  still  entangled,  and  with  hands, 
feet,  and  knees  drove  him  into  his  shell  as  a 
hasty  traveller  tramples  his  effects  into  a  pack 
ing-case. 

"See,"  said  Elaine,  "how  pleasantly  we  two 
have  you  at  our  disposal.  Shall  the  neighbours 
be  called  to  have  a  sight  of  the  Dragon  ?" 

"What  do  you  want  with  me?"  said  Sir  Fran 
cis,  quietly.  For  he  was  a  philosopher. 


148 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 


"  In  the  first  place,"  answered  Geoffrey,  "know 
that  thou  art  caught.  And  if  I  shall  spare  thee 
this  night,  it  may  well  be  they'll  set  thy  carcase 
swinging  on  the  gallows-tree  to-morrow  morning, 
— or,  being  Christmas,  the  day  after." 

"I  can  see  my  case  without  thy  help,"  Sir 
Francis  replied.  "What  next?" 

At  this,  Elaine  came  to  Geoffrey  and  they 
whispered  together. 

"Thy  trade  is  done  for,"  said  the  youth,  at 
length.  "  There'll  be  no  more  monks  of  Oyster- 

le-Main,  and  no  more 
Dragon  of  Wantley. 
But  thou  and  the  other 
curs  may  live,  if  ye  so 
choose." 

' '  Through  what  do  I 
buy  my  choice?" 

"Through   a    further 
exhibition  of  thine  art. 


Dragon  pcrcciuefli  hymfelf    to  be  entrapped  ( 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  149 

Thou  must  play  Dragon  to-night  once  again  for 
the  last  time.  This,  that  I  may  show  thee  captive 
to  Sir  Godfrey  Disseisin." 

"And  in  chains,  I  think,"  added  Elaine. 
"There  is  one  behind  the  post."  It  had  be 
longed  in  the  bear-pit  during  the  lives  of  Orlando 
Crumb  and  Furioso  Bun,  two  bears  trapped 
expressly  for  the  Baron  near  Roncevaux. 

"After  which?"  inquired  Sir  Francis. 

"  Thou  shalt  go  free,  and  I  will  claim  this  lady's 
hand  from  her  father,  who  promised  her  to  any 
man  that  brought  the  Dragon  to  him  dead  or 
alive." 

"  Papa  shall  be  kept  at  a  distance  from  you," 
said  Elaine,  "and  will  never  suspect  in  this  dim 
ness,  if  you  roar  at  him  thoroughly." 

"Then,"  continued  Geoffrey,  "I  shall  lead  thee 
away  as  my  spoil,  and  the  people  shall  see  the 
lizard-skin  after  a  little  while.  But  thou  must 
journey  far  from  Wantley,  and  never  show  face 
again." 

"And  go  from  Oyster-le-Main  and  the 
tithings?"  exclaimed  Sir  Francis.  "My  house 
and  my  sustenance  ?" 

13* 


150  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

"Sustain  thyself  elsewhere,"  said  Geoffrey; 
"  I  care  not  how." 

"  No  !"  said  Sir  Francis.      "  I'll  not  do  this." 

"  Then  we  call  Sir  Godfrey.  The  Baron  will 
not  love  thee  very  much,  seeing  how  well  he 
loves  his  Burgundy  thou  hast  drank.  Thou 
gavest  him  sermons  on  cold  spring-water.  He'll 
remember  that.  I  think  thou'lt  be  soon  hanging. 
So  choose." 

The  Knight  of  the  Voracious  Stomach  was 
silent. 

"This  is  a  pretty  scheme  thou  hast,"  he  pres 
ently  said.  "And  not  thine  own.  She  has 
taught  thee  this  wit,  I'll  be  bound.  Mated  to 
her,  thou'lt  prosper,  I  fear." 

"  Come,  thy  choice,"  said  Geoffrey,  sternly. 

A  sour  smile  moved  the  lips  of  Sir  Francis. 
"Well,"  he  said,  "it  has  been  good  while  it 
lasted.  Yes,  I  consent.  Our  interests  lie  to 
gether.  See  how  Necessity  is  the  mother  of 
Friendship,  also." 

The  mask  was  drawn  over  his  face,  and  they 
wound  the  chain  about  the  great  body. 

"There    must   be    sounds    of    fighting,"    said 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  151 

Elaine.  "  Make  them  when  I  am  gone  into  the 
house." 

"  If  I  had  strangled  thee  in  thy  prison,  which 
was  in  my  mind,"  said  the  voice  of  the  hidden 
speaker,  "this  folly  we — but  there.  Let  it  go, 
and  begin." 

Then  they  fell  to  making  a  wonderful  dis 
turbance.  The  Dragon's  voice  was  lifted  in 
horrid  howlings  ;  and  the  young  knight  con 
tinually  bawled  with  all  his  lungs.  They  chased 
as  children  in  a  game  do :  forward,  back,  and 
across  to  nowhere,  knocking  the  barrels,  clanking 
and  clashing,  up  between  the  rows  and  around 
corners  ;  and  the  dry  earth  was  ground  under 
their  feet  and  swept  from  the  floor  upward  in  a 
fine  floating  yellow  powder  that  they  sucked 
down  into  their  windpipes,  while  still  they  hustled 
and  jangled  and  banged  and  coughed  and  grew 
dripping  wet,  so  the  dust  and  the  water  mingled 
and  ran  black  streams  along  their  bodies  from 
the  neck  downwards,  tickling  their  backs  and 
stomachs  mightily.  When  the  breath  was  no 
longer  inside  them,  they  stopped  to  listen. 

The  house  was  stone  still,  and  no  noise  came, 


152  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

save  always  the  wind's  same  cheerless  blow 
ing. 

"  How  much  more  of  this  before  they  will 
awaken?"  exclaimed  Geoffrey,  in  indignation. 
"  'Tis  a  scandal  people  should  sleep  so." 

"They  are  saying  their  prayers,"  said  Sir 
Francis. 

"It  is  a  pity  thou  art  such  a  miscreant,"  Geof 
frey  said,  heartily;  "otherwise  I  could  sweat 
myself  into  a  good-humour  with  thee." 

But  Sir  Francis  replied  with  coldness,  "It  is 
easy  for  the  upper  hand  to  laugh." 

"We  must  at  it  again,"  said  Geoffrey;  "and 
this  time  I  will  let  them  hear  thou  art  conquered." 
The  din  and  hubbub  recommenced.  And  Mistle 
toe  could  hear  it  where  she  quaked  inside  her 
closet  holding  the  door  with  both  hands.  And 
the  Baron  could  hear  it.  He  was  locked  in  the 
bath-room,  dreadfully  sorry  he  had  not  gone  to 
the  Crusade.  Quite  unknowingly  in  his  alarm  he 
had  laid  hold  of  a  cord  that  set  going  the  shower- 
bath  ;  but  he  gave  no  heed  at  all  to  this  trifle. 
And  every  man  and  woman  in  the  house  heard 
the  riot,  from  the  scullion  up  through  the  cook  to 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  153 

Popham,  who  had  unstrapped  his  calves  before 
retiring,  so  that  now  his  lean  shanks  knocked 
together  like  hockey-sticks.  Little  Whelpdale, 
freezing  in  his  shirt-tail  under  the  bed,  was  crying 
piteously  upon  all  Saints  to  forget  about  his  sins 
and  deliver  him.  Only  Miss  Elaine  standing  in 
her  room  listened  with  calm  ;  and  she  with  not 
much,  being  on  the  threshold  of  a  chance  that 
might  turn  untoward  so  readily.  Presently  a 
victorious  shouting  came  from  far  down  through 
the  dark. 

"He  is  mine!"  the  voice  bellowed.  "I  have 
laid  him  low.  The  Dragon  is  taken."  At  this 
she  hastened  to  summon  Sir  Godfrey. 

"Why,  where  can  he  be?"  she  exclaimed, 
stopping  in  astonishment  at  his  room,  empty  and 
the  door  open  wide. 

Down  in  the  cellar  the  voice  continued  to  call 
on  all  people  to  come  and  see  the  Dragon  of 
Wantley.  Also  Elaine  heard  a  splashing  and 
dripping  that  sounded  in  the  bath-room.  So  she 
ran  to  the  door  and  knocked. 

"  You  can't  come  in  !"  said  the  Baron  angrily. 

"Papa !      They've   caught   the    Dragon.      Oh 


154  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

why  are  you  taking  your  bath  at  such  a 
time?" 

"Taking  my  grandmother!"  Sir  Godfrey  re 
torted  in  great  dudgeon.  But  he  let  the  rope  go, 
and  the  shower  stopped  running.  "  Go  to  your 
room,"  he  added.  "I  told  you  to  lock  your 
door.  This  Dragon " 

"  But  he's  caught,  papa,"  cried  Elaine  through 

the  key-hole.  "  Don't  you  hear  me  ?  Geoff 

somebody  has  got  him." 

"How  now?"  said  the  Baron,  unlocking  the 
door  and  peering  out.  "  What's  all  this  ?" 

His  dressing-gown  was  extremely  damp,  for 
stray  spouts  from  the  shower-bath  had  squirted 
over  him.  Fortunately,  the  breast-plate  under 
neath  had  kept  him  dry  as  far  as  it  went. 

"Hum,"  he  said,  after  he  had  listened  to  the 
voice  in  the  cellar.  "This  is  something  to  be 
cautious  over." 

"  If  the  people  of  this  house  do  not  come  soon 
to  bear  witness  of  my  conquest,"  said  the  voice 
in  tones  of  thunder,  "I'll  lead  this  Dragon 
through  every  chamber  of  it  myself." 

"  Damnum  absque  injuria  !"  shrieked  Sir  God- 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


155 


frey,  and  uttered  much  more  horrible  language 
entirely  unfit  for  general  use.  "What  the  Jeo- 
failes  does  the  varlet  mean  by  threatening  an 
Englishman  in  his  own  house  ?  I  should  like  to 
know  who  lives  here?  I  should  like  to  know 
who  I  am  ?" 

The  Baron  flew  down  the  entry  in  a  rage.  He 
ran  to  his  bedside  and  pulled  his  sword  from 
under  the  pillows  where  he  always  kept  it  at 
night  with  his  sun-dial. 

"We  shall  see  who  is  master  of  this  house," 
he  said.  "  I  am  not  going  to — does  he  suppose 
anybody  that  pleases  can  come  carting  their 
dragons  through  my  premises  ?  Get  up  !  Get 
up  !  Every  one  !"  he  shouted, 
hurrying  along  the  hall  with  the 
sword  in  his  right  hand  and  a 
lantern  in  his  left.  His  slip 
pers  were  only  half  on,  so  they 
made  a  slithering  and  slapping 
over  the  floor ;  and  his  speed 
was  such  that  the  quilted  red 
dressing-gown  filled  with  the 
wind  and  spread  behind  him 


156 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


till  he  looked  like  a  huge  new  sort  of 
bird  or  an  eccentric  balloon.  Up  and 
down  in  all  quarters  of  the  house  went 
Sir  Godfrey,  pounding 
against  every  shut  door. 
Out  they  came.  Mistletoe 
from  her  closet,  squeak 
ing.  Whelpdale  from 
under  his  bed.  The 
Baron  allowed  him  time 
to  put  on  a  pair  of 
breeches  wrong  side  out. 

The  cook  came,  and  you  could  hear  her  panting 
all  the  way  down  from  the  attic.  Out  came  the 
nine  house-maids  with  hair  in  curl-papers.  The 
seven  footmen  followed.  Meeson  and  Welsby 
had  forgotten  their  wigs.  The  coachman  and 
grooms  and  stable-boys  came  in  horse-blankets 
and  boots.  And  last  in  the  pro 
cession,  old  Popham,  one  calf 
securely  strapped  on,  and  the 
other  dangling  disgracefully. 
Breathless  they  huddled  behind 
the  Baron,  who  strode  to  the  cellar, 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  157 

where  he  flung  the  door  open.  Over  in  a  corner 
was  a  hideous  monster,  and  every  man  fell  against 
his  neighbour  and  shrieked.  At  which  the  mon 
ster  roared  most  alarmingly,  and  all  fell  together 
again.  Young  Geoffrey  stood  in  the  middle  of 
the  cellar,  and  said  not  a  word.  One  end  of  a 
chain  was  in  his  hand,  and  he  waited  mighty  stiff 
for  the  Baron  to  speak.  But  when  he  saw  Miss 
Elaine  come  stealing  in  after  the  rest  so  quiet 
and  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  him,  his  own  eyes 
shone  wonderfully. 

At  the  sight  of  the  Dragon,  Sir  Godfrey  forgot 
his  late  excitement,  and  muttered  "  Bless  my 
soul !"  Then  he  stared  at  the  beast  for  some 
time. 

"  Can — can't  he  do  anything?"  he  inquired. 

"  No,"  said  Geoffrey  shortly  ;  "  he  can't." 

"  Not  fly  up  at  one,  for  instance  ?" 

"I  have  broken  his  wing,"  replied  the  youth. 

"  I — I'd  like  to  look  at  him.  Never  saw  one 
before,"  said  the  Baron  ;  and  he  took  two  steps. 
Then  gingerly  he  moved  another  step. 

"Take  care!"  Geoffrey  cried,  with  rapid 
alarm. 

14 


158  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

The  monster  moved,  and  from  his  nostrils  (as 
it  seemed)  shot  a  plume  of  flame. 

Popham  clutched  the  cook,  and  the  nine  house 
maids  sank  instantly  into  the  arms  of  the  seven 
footmen  without  the  slightest  regard  to  how  un 
satisfactorily  nine  goes  into  seven. 

"  Good  heavens !"  said  the  Baron,  getting 
behind  a  hogshead,  "  what  a  brute  !" 

"  Perhaps  it  might  be  useful  if  I  excommuni 
cated  him,"  said  the  Rev.  Hucbald,  who  had 
come  in  rather  late,  with  his  clerical  frock-coat 
buttoned  over  his  pyjamas. 

"  Pooh  !"  said  the  Baron.  "  As  if  he'd  care  for 
that." 

"Very  few  men  can  handle  a  dragon,"  said 
Geoffrey,  unconcernedly,  and  stroked  his  upper 
lip,  where  a  kindly-disposed  person  might  see 
there  was  going  to  be  a  moustache  some 
day. 

"I  don't  know  exactly  what  you  mean  to  imply 
by  that,  young  man,"  said  the  Baron,  coming  out 
from  behind  the  hogshead  and  puffing  somewhat 
pompously. 

"Why,    zounds!"   he    exclaimed,    "I    left   you 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  159 

locked  up  this  afternoon,  and  securely.  How 
came  you  here  ?" 

Geoffrey  coughed,  for  it  was  an  awkward  in 
quiry. 

"Answer  me  without  so  much  throat-clearing," 
said  the  Baron. 

"I'll  clear  my  throat  as  it  pleases  me,"  replied 
Geoffrey  hotly.  "  How  I  came  here  is  no  affair 
of  yours  that  I  can  see.  But  ask  Father  Anselm 
himself,  and  he  will  tell  you."  This  was  a  happy 
thought,  and  the  youth  threw  a  look  at  the 
Dragon,  who  nodded  slightly.  "  I  have  a  ques 
tion  to  ask  you,  sir,"  Geoffrey  continued,  taking 
a  tone  and  manner  more  polite.  Then  he 
pointed  to  the  Dragon  with  his  sword,  and  was 
silent. 

"Well?"  said  Sir  Godfrey,  "don't  keep  me 
waiting." 

"I  fear  your  memory's  short,  sir.  By  your 
word  proclaimed  this  morning  the  man  who 
brought  you  this  Dragon  should  have  you* 
daughter  to  wife  if  she — if  she " 

"Ha!"  said  the  Baron.  "To be  sure.  Though 
it  was  hasty.  Hum  !  Had  I  foreseen  the  matter 


160  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

would  be  so  immediately  settled — she's  a  great 
prize  for  any  lad — and  you're  not  hurt  either. 
One  should  be  hurt  for  such  a  reward.  You 
seem  entirely  sound  of  limb  and  without  a 
scratch.  A  great  prize." 

"There's  the  Dragon,"  replied  Geoffrey,  "and 
here  am  I." 

Now  Sir  Godfrey  was  an  honourable  man. 
When  he  once  had  given  his  word,  you  could 
hold  him  to  it.  That  is  very  uncommon  to-day, 
particularly  in  the  matter  of  contracts.  He 
gathered  his  dressing-gown  about  him,  and 
looked  every  inch  a  parent.  "Elaine,"  he  said, 
" my  dear?" 

"  Oh,  .papa  !"  murmured  that  young  woman  in 
a  die-away  voice. 

Geoffrey  had  just  time  to  see  the  look  in  her 
brown  eye  as  she  turned  her  head  away.  And 
his  senses  reeled  blissfully,  and  his  brain  blew 
out  like  a  candle,  and  he  ceased  to  be  a  man  who 
could  utter  speech.  He  stood  stock-still  with  his 
gaze  fixed  upon  Elaine.  The  nine  house-maids 
looked  at  the  young  couple  with  many  sympa 
thetic  though  respectful  sighings,  and  the  seven 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  l6l 

footmen  looked  comprehensively  at  the  nine 
house-maids. 

Sir  Godfrey  smiled,  and  very  kindly.  "Ah, 
well,"  he  said,  "once  I — but  tush!  You're  a 
brave  lad,  and  I  knew  your  father  well.  I'll 
consent,  of  course.  But  if  you  don't  mind,  I'll 
give  you  rather  a  quick  blessing  this  evening. 
'Tis  growing  colder.  Come  here,  Elaine.  Come 
here,  sir.  There !  Now,  I  hate  delay  in  these 
matters.  You  shall  be  married  to-morrow. 
Hey  ?  What  ?  You  don't  object,  I  suppose  ? 
Then  why  did  you  jump  ?  To-morrow,  Christ 
mas  Day,  and  every  church-bell  in  the  county 
shall  ring  three  times  more  than  usual.  Once 
for  the  holy  Feast,  and  may  the  Lord  bless  it 
always  !  and  once  for  my  girl's  wedding.  And 
once  for  the  death  and  destruction  of  the  Dragon 
of  Wantley." 

"  Hurrah  !"  said  the  united  household. 

"We'll  have  a  nuptials  that  shall  be  the  talk 
of  our  grandchildren's  children,  and  after  them. 
We'll  have  all  the  people  to  see.  And  we'll 
build  the  biggest  pile  of  fagots  that  can  be  cut 
from  my  timber,  and  the  Dragon  shall  be  chained 
/  14* 


1 62  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

on  the  top  of  it,  and  we'll  cremate  him  like  an 
Ancient, — only  alive  !  We'll  cremate  the  mon 
ster  alive !" 

Elaine  jumped.  Geoffrey  jumped.  The  chain 
round  the  Dragon  loudly  clanked. 

"  Why — do  you  not  find  this  a  pleasant  plan  ?" 
asked  the  Baron,  surprised. 

"It  seems  to  me,  sir,"  stuttered  Geoffrey, 
beating  his  brains  for  every  next  word,  "  it  seems 
to  me  a  monstrous  pity  to  destroy  this  Dragon 
so.  He  is  a  rare  curiosity." 

"  Did  you  expect  me  to  clap  him  in  a  box- 
stall  and  feed  him?"  inquired  the  Baron  with 
scorn. 

"Why,  no,  sir.  But  since  it  is  I  who  have 
tracked,  stalked,  and  taken  him  with  the  help  of 
no  other  huntsman,"  said  Geoffrey,  "I  make  bold 
to  think  the  laws  of  sport  vest  the  title  to  him  in 
me." 

"No  such  thing,"  said  Sir  Godfrey.  "You 
have  captured  him  in  my  cellar.  I  know  a  little 
law,  I  hope." 

"The  law  about  wild  beasts  in  Poictiers " 

Geoffrey  began. 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  163 

"  What  care  I  for  your  knavish  and  perverted 
foreign  legalities  over  the  sea?"  snorted  Sir 
Godfrey.  "This  is  England.  And  our  Common 
Law  says  you  have  trespassed." 

"My  dear  sir,"  said  Geoffrey,  "this  wild  beast 
came  into  your  premises  after  I  had  marked  him." 

"  Don't  dear  sir  me !"  shouted  the  Baron. 
"Will  you  hear  the  law  for  what  I  say?  I  tell 
you  this  Dragon's  my  dragon.  Don't  I  re 
member  how  trespass  was  brought  against  Ralph 
de  Coventry,  over  in  Warwickshire?  Who  did 
no  more  than  you  have  done.  And  they  held 
him.  And  there  it  was  but  a  little  pheasant  his 
hawk  had  chased  into  another's  warren — and 
you've  chased  a  dragon,  so  the  offence  is 
greater." 

"But  if — "  remonstrated  the  youth,  "if  a 
fox " 

"  Fox  me  no  foxes !  Here  is  the  case  of 
Ralph  de  Coventry,"  replied  Sir  Godfrey,  looking 
learned,  and  seating  himself  on  a  barrel  of  beer. 
"Ralph  pleaded  before  the  Judge  saying,  '  et 
nous  lessamus  nostre  faucon  voler  a  luy,  et  il  le 
pursuy  en  le  garrein,' — 'tis  just  your  position, 


1 64  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

only  'twas  you  that  pursued  and  not  your  falcon, 
which  does  not  in  the  least  distinguish  the  cases." 

"But,"  said  Geoffrey  again,  "the  Dragon 
started  not  on  your  premises." 

"  No  matter  for  that ;  for  you  have  pursued 
him  into  my  warren,  that  is,  my  cellar,  my  en 
closed  cellar,  where  you  had  no  business  to  be. 
And  the  Court  told  Ralph  no  matter  '  que  le 
feisant  leva  hors  de  le  garrein,  vostre  faucon  luy 
pursuy  en  le  garrein.'  So  there's  good  sound 
English  law,  and  none  of  your  foppish  outland- 
ishries  in  Latin,"  finished  the  Baron,  vastly  de 
lighted  at  being  able  to  display  the  little  learning 
that  he  had.  For  you  see,  very  few  gentlemen 
in  those  benighted  days  knew  how  to  speak  the 
beautiful  language  of  the  law  so  fluently  as 
that. 

"And  besides,"  continued  Sir  Godfrey  sud 
denly,  "there  is  a  contract." 

"What  contract?"  asked  Geoffrey. 

"  A  good  and  valid  one.  When  I  said  this 
morning  that  I  would  give  my  daughter  to  the 
man  who  brought  me  the  Dragon  alive  or  dead, 
did  I  say  I  would  give  him  the  Dragon  too  ?  So 


THE  DRAGON  .OF  WANTLEY.  165 

choose  which  you  will  take,  for  both  you  cannot 
have." 

At  this  Elaine  turned  pale  as  death,  and  Geof 
frey  stood  dumb. 

Had  anybody  looked  at  the  Dragon,  it  was 
easy  to  see  the  beast  was  much  agitated. 

"  Choose  !"  said  Sir  Godfrey.  "  'Tis  getting 
too  cold  to  stay  here.  What?  You  hesitate 
between  my  daughter  and  a  miserable  reptile  ?  I 
thought  the  lads  of  France  were  more  gallant. 
Come,  sir  !  which  shall  it  be  ?  The  lady  or  the 
Dragon  ?" 

"Well,"  said  Geoffrey,  and  his  blood  and  heart 
stood  still  (and  so  did  Elaine's,  and  so  did  an 
other  person's),  "I — I — think  I  will  choose  the 
1— lady." 

"  Hurrah  !"  cheered  the  household  once  more. 

"  Oh,  Lord !"  said  the  Dragon,  but  nobody 
heard  him. 

"  Indeed  !"  observed  Sir  Godfrey.  "  And  now 
we'll  chain  him  in  my  bear-pit  till  morning,  and 
at  noon  he  shall  be  burned  alive  by  the  blazing 
fagots.  Let  us  get  some  sleep  now." 

The  cloud   of  slimly-clad   domestics   departed 


1 66  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

with  slow  steps,  and  many  a  look  of  fear  cast 
backward  at  the  captured  monster. 

"This  Dragon,  sir,"  said  Geoffrey,  wondering 
at  his  own  voice,  "will  die  of  thirst  in  that  pit. 
Bethink  you  how  deep  is  his  habit  of  drinking." 

"  Ha !  I  have  often  bethought  me,"  retorted 
Sir  Godfrey,  rolling  his  eyes  over  the  empty 
barrels.  "  But  here  !  I  am  a  man  of  some  heart, 
I  hope." 

He  seized  up  a  bucket  and  ran  to  the  hogs 
head  containing  his  daughter's  native  cowslip 
wine. 

"  There  !"  he  observed  when  the  bucket  was 
pretty  well  filled.  "  Put  that  in  to  moisten  his 
last  hours." 

Then  the  Baron  led  the  way  round  the  Manor 
to  the  court-yard  where  the  bear-pit  was.  His 
daughter  kept  pace  with  him  not  easily,  for  the 
excellent  gentleman  desired  to  be  a  decent  dis 
tance  away  from  the  Dragon,  whom  young  Geof 
frey  dragged  along"  in  the  rear. 


?*•  Leaucs  much 
Room 


. 
h-X 


S  they  proceeded  towards 
the  bear  -  pit,  having 
some  distance  to  go, 
good-humour  and  be 
nevolence  began  to  rise 
up  in  the  heart  of  Sir 
Godfrey. 

"This  is  a  great  thing!"  he  said  to  Miss 
Elaine.  "  Ha !  an  important  and  joyful  occur 
rence.  The  news  of  it  will  fly  far." 

"Yes,"  the  young  lady  replied,  but  without 
enthusiasm.  "The  cattle  will  be  safe  now." 

"The  cattle,  child!  my  Burgundy!  Think  of 
that !" 

"Yes,  papa." 

"The  people  will  come,"  continued  the  Baron, 
"  from  all  sides  to-morrow — why,  it's  to-morrow 
now  !"  he  cried.  "  From  all  sides  they  will  come 
to  my  house  to  see  my  Dragon.  And  I  shall 
permit  them  to  see  him.  They  shall  see  him 

168 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  169 

cooked  alive,  if  they  wish.  It  is  a  very  proper 
curiosity.  The  brute  had  a  wide  reputation." 

To  hear  himself  spoken  of  in  the  past  tense, 
as  we  speak  of  the  dead,  was  not  pleasant  to  Sir 
Francis,  walking  behind  Geoffrey  on  all  fours. 

"I  shall  send  for  Father  Anselm  and  his 
monks,"  the  Baron  went  on. 

Hearing  this  Geoffrey  started. 

"What  need  have  we  of  them,  sir?"  he  in 
quired.  To  send  for  Father  Anselm !  It  was 
getting  worse  and  worse. 

"  Need  of  Father  Anselm  ?"  repeated  Sir  God 
frey.  "  Of  course  I  shall  need  him.  I  want  the 
parson  to  tell  me  how  he  came  to  change  his 
mind  and  let  you  out." 

"Oh,  to  be  sure,"  said  Geoffrey,  mechanically. 
His  thoughts  were  reeling  helplessly  together, 
with  no  one  thing  uppermost. 

"  Not  that  I  disapprove  it.  I  have  changed  my 
own  mind  upon  occasions.  But  'twas  sudden, 
after  his  bundle  of  sagacity  about  Crusades  and 
visions  of  my  ancestor  and  what  not  over  there 
in  the  morning.  Ha !  ha !  These  clericals  are 
no  more  consistent  than  another  person.  I'll 
H  15 


170  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

never  let  the  Father  forget  this."  And  the 
Baron  chuckled.  "Besides,"  he  said,  "'tis  suit 
able  that  these  monks  should  be  present  at  the 
burning.  This  Dragon  was  a  curse,  and  curses 
are  somewhat  of  a  church  matter." 

"True,"  said  Geoffrey,  for  lack  of  a  better 
reply. 

"Why,  bless  my  soul!"  shouted  the  Baron, 
suddenly  wheeling  round  to  Elaine  at  his  side, 
so  that  the  cowslip  wine  splashed  out  of  the 
bucket  he  carried,  "it's  my  girl's  wedding-day 
too  !  I  had  clean  forgot.  Bless  my  soul !" 

"Y — yes,  papa,"  faltered  Elaine. 

"And  you,  young  fellow!"  her  father  called 
out  to  Geoffrey  with  lusty  heartiness.  "You're 
a  lucky  rogue,  sir." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Geoffrey,  but  not  gayly.  He 
was  wondering  how  it  felt  to  be  going  mad. 
Amid  his  whirling  thoughts  burned  the  one  long 
ing  to  hide  Elaine  safe  in  his  arms  and  tell  her  it 
would  all  come  right  somehow.  A  silence  fell 
on  the  group  as  they  walked.  Even  to  the 
Baron,  who  was  not  a  close  observer,  the  present 
reticence  of  these  two  newly-betrothed  lovers 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  171 

was  apparent.  He  looked  from  one  to  the  other, 
but  in  the  face  of  neither  could  he  see  beaming 
any  of  the  soft  transports  which  he  considered 
were  traditionally  appropriate  to  the  hour. 
"  Umph  !"  he  exclaimed  ;  "it  was  never  like  this 
in  my  day."  Then  his  thoughts  went  back  some 
forty  years,  and  his  eyes  mellowed  from  within. 

"We'll  cook  the  Dragon  first,"  continued  the 
old  gentleman,  "and  then,  sir,  you  and  my  girl 
shall  be  married.  Ha !  ha !  a  great  day  for 
Wantley  !"  The  Baron  swung  his  bucket,  and 
another  jet  of  its  contents  slid  out.  He  was 
growing  more  and  more  delighted  with  himself 
and  his  daughter  and  her  lover  and  everybody  in 
the  world.  "  And  you're  a  stout  rogue,  too,  sir," 
he  said.  "  Built  near  as  well  as  an  Englishman, 
I  think.  And  that's  an  excellent  thing  in  a  hus 
band." 

The  Baron  continued  to  talk,  now  and  then 
almost  falling  in  the  snow,  but  not  permitting 
such  slight  mishaps  to  interrupt  his  discourse, 
which  was  addressed  to  nobody  and  had  a  gen 
eral  nature,  touching  upon  dragons,  marriages, 
Crusades,  and  Burgundy.  Could  he  have  seen 


172  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

Geoffrey's  more  and  more  woe-begone  and  dis 
tracted  expression,  he  would  have  concluded  his 
future  son-in-law  was  suffering  from  some  sudden 
and  momentous  bodily  ill. 

The  young  man  drew  near  the  Dragon. 
"What  shall  we  do?"  he  said  in  a  whisper. 
"  Can  I  steal  the  keys  of  the  pit  ?  Can  we 
say  the  Dragon  escaped?"  The  words  came  in 
nervous  haste,  wholly  unlike  the  bold  deliberate- 
ness  with  which  the  youth  usually  spoke.  It  was 
plain  he  was  at  the  end  of  his  wits. 

"Why,  what  ails  thee?"  inquired  Sir  Francis 
in  a  calm  and  unmoved  voice.  "This  is  a  simple 
matter." 

His  tone  was  so  quiet  that  Geoffrey  stared  in 
amazement. 

"  But  yonder  pit !"  he  said.     "  We  are  ruined !" 

"Not  at  all,"  Sir  Francis  replied.  "Truly 
thou  art  a  deep  thinker !  First  a  woman  and 
now  thine  enemy  has  to  assist  thy  distress." 

He  put  so  much  hatred  and  scorn  into  his 
tones  that  Geoffrey  flamed  up.  "Take  care!" 
he  muttered  angrily. 

"That's    right!"    the    prisoner   said,    laughing 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  173 

dryly.  "  Draw  thy  sword  and  split  our  secret 
open.  It  will  be  a  fine  wedding-day  thou'lt  have 
then.  Our  way  out  of  this  is  plain  enough.  Did 
not  the  Baron  say  that  Father  Anselm  was  to  be 
present  at  the  burning?  He  shall  be  present." 

"Yes,"  said  the  youth.  "But  how  to  get  out 
of  the  pit  ?  And  how  can  there  be  a  dragon  to 
burn  if  thou  art  to  be  Father  Anselm?  And 
how "  he  stopped. 

"I  am  full  of  pity  for  thy  brains,"  said  Sir 
Francis. 

"  Here's  the  pit !"  said  the  voice  of  Sir  God 
frey.  "  Bring  him  along." 

"  Hark  !"  said  Sir  Francis  to  Geoffrey.  "  Thou 
must  go  to  Oyster -le- Main  with  a  message. 
Darest  thou  go  alone  ?" 

"  If  I  dare  ?"  retorted  Geoffrey,  proudly. 

"It  is  well.  Come  to  the  pit  when  the  Baron 
is  safe  in  the  house." 

Now  they  were  at  the  iron  door.  Here  the 
ground  was  on  a  level  with  the  bottom  of  the  pit, 
but  sloped  steeply  up  to  the  top  of  its  walls 
elsewhere,  so  that  one  could  look  down  inside. 
The  Baron  unlocked  the  door  and  entered  with 

'5* 


174  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

his  cowslip  wine,  which  (not  being  a  very  potent 
decoction)  began  to  be  covered  with  threads  of 
ice  as  soon  as  it  was  set  down.  The  night  was 
growing  more  bitter  as  its  frosty  hours  wore  on  ; 
for  the  storm  was  departed,  and  the  wind  fallen 
to  silence,  and  the  immense  sky  clean  and  cold 
with  the  shivering  glitter  of  the  stars. 

Then  Geoffrey  led  the  Dragon  into  the  pit. 
This  was  a  rude  and  desolate  hole,  and  its  fur 
niture  of  that  extreme  simplicity  common  to 
bear-pits  in  those  barbarous  times.  From  the 
middle  of  the  stone  floor  rose  the  trunk  of  a 
tree,  ragged  with  lopped  boughs  and  at  its  top 
forking  into  sundry  limbs  possible  to  sit  among. 
An  iron  trough  was  there  near  a  heap  of  stale 
greasy  straw,  and  both  were  shapeless  white 
lumps  beneath  the  snow.  The  chiselled  and 
cemented  walls  rose  round  in  a  circle  and  showed 
no  crevice  for  the  nails  of  either  man  or  bear  to 
climb  by.  Many  times  had  Orlando  Crumb  and 
Furioso  Bun  observed  this  with  sadness,  and  now 
Sir  Francis  observed  it  also.  He  took  into  his 
chest  a  big  swallow  of  air,  and  drove  it  out  again 
between  his  teeth  with  a  weary  hissing. 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  175 

"I  will  return  at  once,"  Geoffrey  whispered  as 
he  was  leaving. 

Then  the  door  was  shut  to,  and  Sir  Francis 
heard  the  lock  grinding  as  the  key  was  turned. 
Then  he  heard  the  Baron  speaking  to  Geoffrey. 

"  I  shall  take  this  key  away,"  he  said  ;  "  there's 
no  telling  what  wandering  fool  might  let  the  mon 
ster  out.  And  now  there's  but  little  time  before 
dawn.  Elaine,  child,  go  to  your  bed.  This  ex 
citement  has  plainly  tired  you.  I  cannot  have 
my  girl  look  like  that  when  she's  a  bride  to-day. 
And  you  too,  sir,"  he  added,  surveying  Geoffrey, 
"  look  a  trifle  out  of  sorts.  Well,  I  am  not  sur 
prised.  A  dragon  is  no  joke.  Come  to  my 
study."  And  he  took  Geoffrey's  arm. 

"Oh,  no!"  said  the  youth.  "I  cannot.  I — I 
must  change  my  dress." 

"  Pooh,  sir !  I  shall  send  to  the  tavern  for 
your  kit.  Come  to  my  study.  You  are  pale. 
We'll  have  a  little  something  hot.  Aha  !  Some 
thing  hot !" 

"  But  I  think "  Geoffrey  began. 

"  Tush  !"  said  the  Baron.  "  You  shall  help  me 
with  the  wedding  invitations." 


176 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


"Sir!"  said  Geoffrey  haughtily, 
"I  know  nothing  of  writing  and 
such  low  habits." 

"Why  no  more  do  I,  of  course," 
replied  Sir  Godfrey ;  "  nor  would  I  suspect  you 
or  any  good  gentleman  of  the  practice,  though 
I  have  made  my  mark  upon  an  indenture  in  the 
presence  of  witnesses." 

"A  man  may  do  that  with  propriety,"  assented 
the  youth.  "  But  I  cannot  come  with  you  now, 
sir.  'Tis  not  possible." 

"  But  I  say  that  you  shall !"  cried  the  Baron 
in  high  good-humour.  "  I  can  mull  Malvoisie  fa 
mously,  and  will  presently  do  so  for  you.  'Tis 
to  help  me  seal  the  invitations  that  I  want  you. 
My  Chaplain  shall  write  them.  Come." 

He  locked  Geoffrey's  arm  in  his  own,  and 
strode  quickly  forward.  Feeling  himself  dragged 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY.  177 

away,  Geoffrey  turned  his  head  despairingly  back 
towards  the  pit. 

"  Oh,  he's  safe  enough  in  there,"  said  Sir  God 
frey.  "  No  need  to  watch  him." 

Sir  Francis  had  listened  to  this  conversation 
with  rising  dismay.  And  now  he  quickly  threw 
off  the  crocodile  hide  and  climbed  up  the  tree  as 
the  bears  had  often  done  before  him.  It  came 
almost  to  a  level  with  the  wall's  rim,  but  the 
radius  was  too  great  a  distance  for  jump 
ing. 

"I  should  break  my  leg,"  he  said,  and  came 
down  the  tree  again,  as  the  bears  had  likewise 
often  descended. 

The  others  were  now  inside  the  house.  Elaine 
with  a  sinking  heart  retired  to  her  room,  and  her 
father  after  summoning  the  Rev.  Hucbald  took 
Geoffrey  into  his  study.  The  Chaplain  followed 
with  a  bunch  of  goose-quills  and  a  large  ink-horn, 
and  seated  himself  at  a  table,  while  the  Baron 
mixed  some  savoury  stuff,  going  down  his  private 
staircase  into  the  buttery  to  get  the  spice  and 
honey  necessary. 

"  Here's  to  the  health  of  all,  and  luck  to-day," 


178  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

said  the  Baron  ;  and  Geoffrey  would  have  been 
quite  happy  if  an  earthquake  had  come  and 
altered  all  plans  for  the  morning.  Still  he  went 
through  the  form  of  clinking  goblets.  But  his 
heart  ached,  and  his  eyes  grew  hot  as  he  sat 
dismal  and  lonely  away  from  his  girl. 

"  Whom  shall  we  ask  to  the  wedding  ?"  queried 
the  Rev.  Hucbald,  rubbing  his  hands  and  looking 
at  the  pitcher  in  which  Sir  Godfrey  had  mixed 
the  beverage. 

"Ask  the  whole  county,"  said  Sir  Godfrey. 
"The  more  the  merrier.  My  boy  Roland  will  be 
here  to-morrow.  He'll  find  his  sister  has  got 
ahead  of  him.  Have  some,"  he  added,  holding 
the  pitcher  to  the  Rev.  Hucbald. 

"I  do  believe  I  will  take  just  a  little  sip," 
returned  the  divine.  "  Thanks  !  ah — most  de 
licious,  Baron  !  A  marriage  on  Christmas  Day," 
he  added,  "  is — ahem  ! — highly  irregular.  But 
under  the  unusual,  indeed  the  truly  remark 
able,  circumstances,  I  make  no  doubt  that  the 
Pope " 

"  Drat  him  !"  said  Sir  Godfrey  ;  at  which  the 
Chaplain  smiled  reproachfully,  and  shook  a  long 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  179 

transparent  taper  finger  at  his  patron  in  a  very 
playful  manner,  saying,  "  Baron  !  now,  Baron  !" 

"  My  boy  Roland's  learning  to  be  a  knight 
over  at  my  uncle  Mortmain's,"  continued  Sir  God 
frey,  pouring  Geoffrey  another  goblet.  "You'll 
like  him." 

But  Geoffrey's  thoughts  were  breeding  more 
anxiety  in  him  every  moment. 

"I'll  get  the  sealing-wax,"  observed  the  Baron, 
and  went  to  a  cabinet. 

"This  room  is  stifling,"  cried  Geoffrey.  "I 
shall  burst  soon,  I  think." 

"  It's  my  mulled  Malvoisie  you're  not  accus 
tomed  to,"  Sir  Godfrey  said,  as  he  rummaged  in 
the  cabinet.  "  Open  the  window  and  get  some 
fresh  air,  my  lad.  Now  where  the  deuce  is  my 
family  seal  ?" 

As  Geoffrey  opened  the  window,  a  soft  piece 
of  snow  flew  through  the  air  and  dropped  lightly 
on  his  foot.  He  looked  quickly  and  perceived  a 
man's  shadow  jutting  into  the  moonlight  from  an 
angle  in  the  wall.  Immediately  he  plunged  out 
through  the  casement,  which  was  not  very  high. 

"  Merciful   powers !"   said   the  Rev.   Hucbald, 


l8o  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

letting  fall  his  quill  and  spoiling  the  first  invita 
tion,  "what  an  impulsive  young  man!  Why, 
he  has  run  clean  round  the  corner." 

"  'Tis  all  my  Malvoisie,"  said  the  Baron,  hugely 
delighted,  and  hurrying  to  the  window.  "  Come 
back  when  you're  sober !"  he  shouted  after  Geof 
frey  with  much  mirth.  Then  he  shut  the  window. 

"  These  French  heads  never  can  weather  Eng 
lish  brews,"  he  remarked  to  the  Chaplain.  "  But 
I'll  train  the  boy  in  time.  He  is  a  rare  good  lad. 
Now,  to  work." 

Out  in  the  snow,  Geoffrey  with  his  sword  drawn 
came  upon  Hubert. 

"Thou  mayest  sheathe  that  knife,"  said  the 
latter. 

"And  be  thy  quarry?"  retorted  Geoffrey. 

"I  have  come  too  late  for  that!"  Hubert 
answered. 

"Thou  hast  been  to  the  bear-pit,  then  ?" 

"  Oh,  aye !" 

"  There's  big  quarry  there  !"  observed  Geoffrey, 
tauntingly.  "  Quite  a  royal  bird." 

"  So  royal  the  male  hawk  could  not  bring  it 
down  by  himself,  I  hear,"  Hubert  replied.  "  Nay, 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 


181 


there's  no  use  in  waxing  wroth,  friend !  My 
death  now  would  clap  thee  in  a  tighter  puzzle 
than  thou  art  in  already — and  I  should  be  able  to 
laugh  down  at  thee  from  a  better  world,"  he 
added,  mimicking  the  priestly  cadence,  and  look 
ing  at  Geoffrey  half  fierce  and  half  laughing. 

He  was  but  an  apprentice  at  robbery  and 
violence,  and  in  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  where 
some  honesty  still  was,  he  liked  Geoffrey  well. 
"Time  presses,"  he  continued.  "I  must  go. 
One  thing  thou  must  do.  Let  not  that  pit  be 
opened  till  the  monks  of  Oyster-le-Main  come 
here.  We  shall  come  before  noon." 

"I  do  not  understand,"  said  Geoffrey. 

"That's      unimportant,"     answered      Hubert. 


1 82  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

"  Only  play  thy  part.  'Tis  a  simple  thing  to 
keep  a  door  shut.  Fail,  and  the  whole  of  us 
are  undone.  Farewell." 

"Nay,  this  is  some  foul  trick,"  Geoffrey  de 
clared,  and  laid  his  hand  on  Hubert. 

But  the  other  shook  his  head  sadly.  "  Dost 
suppose,"  he  said,  "that  we  should  have  ab 
stained  from  any  trick  that's  known  to  the  accu 
mulated  wisdom  of  man  ?  Our  sport  is  up." 

"'Tis  true,"  Geoffrey  said,  musingly,  "we  hold 
all  of  you  in  the  hollow  of  one  hand." 

"Thou  canst  make  a  present  of  us  to  the 
hangman  in  twenty  minutes  if  thou  choosest," 
said  Hubert. 

"  Though  'twould  put  me  in  quite  as  evil 
case." 

"  Ho !  what's  the  loss  of  a  woman  compared 
with  death?"  Hubert  exclaimed. 

"Thou'lt  know  some  day,"  the  young  knight 
said,  eying  Hubert  with  a  certain  pity  ;  "that  is, 
if  ever  thou  art  lucky  to  love  truly." 

"And  is  it  so  much  as  that?"  murmured  Hu 
bert  wistfully.  "  'Twas  good  fortune  for  thee 
and  thy  sweetheart  I  did  not  return  to  look  for 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  183 

my  master  while  he  was  being  taken  to  the  pit," 
he  continued;  "we  could  have  stopped  all  your 
mouths  till  the  Day  of  Judgment  at  least." 

"  Wouldst  thou  have  slain  a  girl?"  asked  Geof 
frey,  stepping  back. 

"  Not  I,  indeed !  But  for  my  master  I  would 
not  be  so  sure.  And  he  says  I'll  come  as  far  as 
that  in  time,"  added  the  apprentice  with  a  shade 
of  bitterness. 

"Thou  art  a  singular  villain,"  said  Geoffrey, 
"and  wonderfully  frank  spoken." 

"And  so  thou'rt  to  be  married?"  Hubert  said 
gently. 

"  By  this  next  noon,  if  all  goes  well !"  ex 
claimed  the  lover  with  ardour. 

"  Heigho !"  sighed  Hubert,  turning  to  go, 
"  'twill  be  a  merry  Christmas  for  somebody." 

"  Give  me  thy  hand,"  cried  Geoffrey,  feeling 
universally  hearty. 

"No,"  replied  the  freebooter;  "what  meaning 
would  there  be  in  that  ?  I  would  sever  thy  jug 
ular  vein  in  a  moment  if  that  would  mend  the 
broken  fortunes  of  my  chief.  Farewell,  how 
ever.  Good  luck  attend  thee." 


184  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

The  eyes  of  both  young  men  met,  and  without 
unkindness  in  them. 

"  But  I  am  satisfied  with  my  calling,"  Hubert 
asserted,  repudiating  some  thought  that  he  im 
agined  was  lurking  in  Geoffrey's  look.  "  Quite 
content!  It's  very  dull  to  be  respectable.  Look! 
the  dawn  will  discover  us." 

"But  this  plan?"  cried  Geoffrey,  hastening 
after  him  ;  "I  know  nothing." 

"Thou  needest  know  nothing.  Keep  the  door 
of  the  pit  shut.  Farewell." 

And  Geoffrey  found  himself  watching  the  black 
form  of  Hubert  dwindle  against  the  white  rises 
of  the  ground.  He  walked  towards  the  tavern 
in  miserable  uncertainty,  for  the  brief  gust  of 
elation  had  passed  from  his  he*art.  Then  he 
returned  irresolute,  and  looked  into  the  pit. 
There  was  Sir  Francis,  dressed  in  the  croco 
dile. 

"  Come  in,  come  in,  young  fellow  !  Ha  !  ha  ! 
how's  thy  head?"  The  Baron  was  at  the  win 
dow,  calling  out  and  beckoning  with  vigour. 

Geoffrey  returned  to  the  study.  There  was  no 
help  for  it. 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  185 

"  We  have  written  fifty-nine  already  !"  said  the 
Rev.  Hucbald. 

But  the  youth  cast  a  dull  eye  upon  the  growing 
heap,  and  sealed  them  very  badly.  What  pleas 
ure  was  it  to  send  out  invitations  to  his  own 
wedding  that  might  never  be  coming  off? 

As  for  Hubert  out  in  the  night,  he  walked 
slowly  through  the  wide  white  country.  And  as 
he  went  across  the  cold  fields  and  saw  how  the 
stars  were  paling  out,  and  cast  long  looks  at  the 
moon  setting  across  the  smooth  snow,  the  lad's 
eyes  filled  so  that  the  moon  twinkled  and  shot 
rays  askew  in  his  sight.  He  thought  how  the 
good  times  of  Oyster-le-Main  were  ended,  and 
he  thought  of  Miss  Elaine  so  far  beyond  the 
reach  of  such  as  he,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  he 
was  outside  the  comfortable  world. 


16* 


,  CThc 
C^reat  White 
r>Ctiriftrnas 
atVantlcy- 


OW  are  all  the  people 
long  awake  and  out  of 
their  beds.  Wantley 
Manor  is  stirring  busily 
in  each  quarter  of  the 
house  and  court,  and 
the  whole  county  like 
wise  is  agog.  By  seven  o'clock  this  morning  it 
was  noised  in  every  thatched  cottage  and  in  every 
gabled  hall  that  the  great  Dragon  had  been  cap 
tured.  Some  said  by  Saint  George  in  person, 
who  appeared  riding  upon  a  miraculous  white 
horse  and  speaking  a  tongue  that  nobody  could 
understand,  wherefore  it  was  held  to  be  the 
language  common  in  Paradise.  Some  declared 
Saint  George  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  and  that 
this  was  the  pious  achievement  of  Father  Anselm. 
Others  were  sure  Miss  Elaine  had  fulfilled  the 
legend  and  conquered  the  monster  entirely  by 
herself.  One  or  two,  hearing  the  event  had 

187 


1 88  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

taken  place  in  Sir  Godfrey's  wine-cellar,  said 
they  thought  the  Baron  had  done  it, — and  were 
immediately  set  down  as  persons  of  unsound 
mind.  But  nobody  mentioned  Geoffrey  at  all, 
until  the  Baron's  invitations,  requesting  the 
honour  of  various  people's  presence  at  the  mar 
riage  of  his  daughter  Elaine  to  that  young  man, 
were  received  ;  and  that  was  about  ten  o'clock, 
the  ceremony  being  named  for  twelve  that  day 
in  the  family  chapel.  Sir  Godfrey  intended  the 
burning  of  the  Dragon  to  take  place  not  one 
minute  later  than  half-past  eleven.  Accordingly, 
besides  the  invitation  to  the  chapel,  all  friends 
and  neighbours  whose  position  in  the  county  or 
whose  intimacy  with  the  family  entitled  them  to 
a  recognition  less  formal  and  more  personal,  re 
ceived  a  second  card  which  ran  as  follows  :  "  Sir 
Godfrey  Disseisin  at  home  Wednesday  morning, 
December  the  twenty-fifth,  from  half  after  eleven 
until  the  following  day.  Dancing  ;  also  a  Dragon 
will  be  roasted.  R.  S  V.  P."  The  Disseisin 
crest  with  its  spirited  motto,  "Saute  qui  peult," 
originated  by  the  venerable  Primer  Disseisin, 
followed  by  his  son  Tortious  Disseisin,  and  borne 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  189 

with  so  much  renown  in  and  out  of  a  hundred 
battles  by  a  thousand  subsequent  Disseisins,  orna 
mented  the  top  left-hand  corner. 

"I  think  we  shall  have  but  few  refusals,"  said 
the  Rev.  Hucbald  to  Sir  Godfrey.  "  Not  many 
will  be  prevented  by  previous  engagements,  I 
opine."  And  the  Chaplain  smiled  benignly,  rub 
bing  his  hands.  He  had  published  the  banns  of 
matrimony  three  times  in  a  lump  before  break 
fast.  "  Which  is  rather  unusual,"  he  said  ;  "but 
under  the  circumstances  we  shall  easily  obtain  a 
dispensation." 

"  In  providing  such  an  entertainment  for  the 
county  as  this  will  be,"  remarked  the  Baron,  "  I 
feel  I  have  performed  my  duty  towards  society 
for  some  time  to  come.  No  one  has  had  a 
dragon  at  a  private  house  before  me,  I  believe." 

"Oh,  surely  not,"  simpered  the  sleek  Hucbald. 
"  Not  even  Lady  Jumping  Jack." 

"  Fiddle  !"  grunted  the  Baron.  "  She  indeed  ! 
Fandangoes  !" 

"She's  very  pious,"  protested  the  Rev.  Huc 
bald,  whom  the  lady  sometimes  asked  to  fish 
lunches  in  Lent. 


190  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

"  Fandangoes  !"  repeated  the  Baron.  He  had 
once  known  her  exceedingly  well,  but  she  pur 
sued  variety  at  all  expense,  even  his.  As  for 
refusals,  the  Chaplain  was  quite  right.  There 
were  none.  Nobody  had  a  previous  engage 
ment — or  kept  it,  if  they  had. 

"  Good  gracious,  Rupert !"  (or  Cecil,  or  Chan- 
dos,  as  it  might  be,)  each  dame  in  the  county  had 
exclaimed  to  her  lord  on  opening  the  envelope 
brought  by  private  hand  from  Wantley,  "we're 
asked  to  the  Disseisins  to  see  a  dragon, — and  his 
daughter  married." 

"  By  heaven,  Muriel,  we'll  go !"  the  gentle 
man  invariably  replied,  under  the  impression  that 
Elaine  was  to  marry  the  Dragon,  which  would 
be  a  show  worth  seeing.  The  answers  came 
flying  back  to  Wantley  every  minute  or  two, 
most  of  them  written  in  such  haste  that  you 
could  only  guess  they  were  acceptances.  And 
those  individuals  who  lived  so  far  away  across 
the  county  that  the  invitations  reached  them  too 
late  to  be  answered,  immediately  rang  every  bell 
in  the  house  and  ordered  the  carriage  in  frantic 
tones. 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  191 

Of  course  nobody  kept  any  engagement.  Sir 
Guy  Vol-au-Vent  (and  none  but  a  most  aban 
doned  desperado  or  advanced  thinker  would  be 
willing  to  do  such  a  thing  on  Christmas)  had 
accepted  an  invitation  to  an  ambush  at  three  for 
the  slaying  of  Sir  Percy  de  Resistance.  But  the 
ambush  was  put  off  till  a  more  convenient  day. 
Sir  Thomas  de  Brie  had  been  going  to  spend  his 
Christmas  at  a  cock-fight  in  the  Count  de  Gor- 
gonzola's  barn.  But  he  remarked  to  his  man 
Edward,  who  brought  the  trap  to  the  door,  that 

the  Count  de  Gorgonzola  might  go Never 

mind  what  he  remarked.  It  was  not  nice ; 
though  oddly  enough  it  was  exactly  the  same 
remark  that  the  Count  had  made  about  Sir 
Thomas  on  telling  his  own  man  James  to  drive 
to  Wantley  and  drop  the  cock-fight.  All  these 
gentlemen,  as  soon  as  they  heard  the  great  news, 
started  for  the  Manor  with  the  utmost  speed. 

Nor  was  it  the  quality  alone  who  were  so 
unanimous  in  their  feelings.  The  Tenantry  (to 
whom  Sir  Godfrey  had  extended  a  very  hos 
pitable  bidding  to  come  and  they  should  find 
standing-room  and  good  meat  and  beer  in  the 


192 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 


'Sir  Thomas   de    Brie    hartens   to    accepqf 
the    Baron's    poh'fe    Inuitation! 


court-yard)  went 
nearly  mad.  From 
every  quarter  of 
the  horizon  they 
came  plunging  and 
ploughing  along. 
The  sun  blazed 
down  out  of  a  sky 
whence  a  universal 
radiance  seemed  to 
beat  upon  the  blind 
ing  white.  Could 
you  have  mounted  up  bird-fashion  over  the 
country,  you  would  have  seen  the  Manor  like 
the  centre  of  some  great  wheel,  with  narrow 
tracks  pointing  in  to  it  from  the  invisible  rim 
of  a  circle,  paths  wide  and  narrow,  converging 
at  the  gate,  trodden  across  the  new  snow  from 
anywhere  and  everywhere ;  and  moving  along 
these  like  ants,  all  the  inhabitants  for  miles 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  193 

around.  And  through  the  wide  splendour  of 
winter  no  wind  blowing,  but  the  sound  of  chiming 
bells  far  and  near,  clear  frozen  drops  of  music  in 
the  brittle  air. 

Old  Gaffer  Piers,  the  ploughman,  stumped 
along,  "pretty  well  for  eighty,  thanky,"  as  he 
somewhat  snappishly  answered  to  the  neighbours 
who  out- walked  him  on  the  road.  They  would 
get  there  first. 

"Wonderful  old  man,"  they  said  as  they  went 
on  their  way,  and  quickly  resumed  their  specula 
tions  upon  the  Dragon's  capture.  Farmer  John 
Stiles  came  driving  his  ox-team  and  snuffling,  for 
it  was  pretty  cold,  and  his  handkerchief  at  home. 
Upon  his  wagon  on  every  part,  like  swallows, 
hung  as  many  of  his  relations  as  could  get  on. 
His  mother,  who  had  been  Lucy  Baker,  and 
grandmother  Cecilia  Kempe,  and  a  litter  of 
cousin  Thorpes.  But  his  step-father  Lewis  Gay 
and  the  children  of  the  half-blood  were  not  asked 
to  ride  ;  farmer  Stiles  had  bitterly  resented  the 
second  marriage.  This  family  knew  all  the  par 
ticulars  concerning  the  Dragon,  for  they  had 
them  from  the  cook's  second  cousin  who  was 

I         n  17 


194  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

courting  Bridget  Stiles.  They  knew  how  Saint 
George  had  waked  Father  Anselm  up  and  put 
him  on  a  white  horse,  and  how  the  Abbot  had 
thus  been  able  to  catch  the  Dragon  by  his  tail  in 
the  air  just  as  he  was  flying  away  with  Miss 
Elaine,  and  how  at  that  the  white  horse  had 
turned  into  a  young  man  who  had  been  be 
witched  by  the  Dragon,  and  was  going  to  marry 
Miss  Elaine  immediately. 

On  the  front  steps,  shaking  hands  with  each 
person  who  came,  was  Sir  Godfrey.  He  had 
dressed  himself  excellently  for  the  occasion  ; 
something  between  a  heavy  father  and  an  old 
beau,  with  a  beautiful  part  down  the  back  of  his 
head  where  the  hair  was.  Geoffrey  stood  beside 
him. 

"  My  son-in-law  that's  to  be,"  Sir  Godfrey 
would  say.  And  the  gentry  welcomed  the  young 
man,  while  the  tenants  bobbed  him  respectful 
salutations. 

"You're  one  of  us.  Glad  to  know  you,"  said 
Sir  Thomas  de  Brie,  surveying  the  lad  with 
approval. 

Lady  Jumping  Jack  held  his  hand  for  a  vanish- 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  195 

ing  moment  you  could  hardly  make  sure  of.  "I 
had  made  up  my  mind  to  hate  you  for  robbing 
me  of  my  dearest  girl,"  she  said,  smiling  gayly, 
and  fixing  him  with  her  odd-looking  eyes.  "  But 
I  see  we're  to  be  friends."  Then  she  murmured 
a  choice  nothing  to  the  Baron,  who  snarled 
politely. 

"  Don't  let  her  play  you,"  said  he  to  Geoffrey 
when  the  lady  had  moved  on.  And  he  tapped 
the  youth's  shoulder  familiarly. 

"Oh,  I've  been  through  all  that  sort  of  thing 
over  in  Poictiers,"  Geoffrey  answered  with  in 
difference. 

"You're  a  rogue,  sir,  as  I've  told  you  before. 
Ha  !  Uncle  Mortmain,  how  d'ye  do  ?  Yes,  this 
is  Geoffrey.  Where's  my  boy  Roland  ?  Coming, 
is  he?  Well,  he  had  better  look  sharp.  It's 
after  eleven,  and  I'll  wait  for  nobody.  How  d'ye 
do,  John  Stiles  ?  That  bull  you  sold  me  's  cost 
ing  thirty  shillings  a  year  in  fences.  You'll  find 
something  ready  down  by  those  tables,  I  think." 

Hark  to  that  roar !  The  crowd  jostled  to 
gether  in  the  court-yard,  for  it  sounded  terribly 
close. 


196  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

"The  Dragon's  quite  safe  in  the  pit,  good 
people,"  shouted  Sir  Godfrey.  "A  few  more 
minutes  and  you'll  all  see  him." 

The  old  gentleman  continued  welcoming  the 
new  arrivals,  chatting  heartily,  with  a  joke  for 
this  one  and  a  kind  inquiry  for  the  other.  But 
wretched  Geoffrey !  So  the  Dragon  was  to  be 
seen  in  a  few  minutes  !  And  where  were  the 
monks  of  Oyster-le-Main  ?  Still,  a  bold  face 
must  be  kept.  He  was  thankful  that  Elaine, 
after  the  custom  of  brides,  was  invisible.  The 
youth's  left  hand  rested  upon  the  hilt  of  his 
sword  ;  he  was  in  rich  attire,  and  the  curly  hair 
that  surrounded  his  forehead  had  been  carefully 
groomed.  Half-way  up  the  stone  steps  as  he 
stood,  his  blue  eyes  watching  keenly  for  the 
monks,  he  was  a  figure  that  made  many  a  humble 
nymph  turn  tender  glances  upon  him.  Old  Piers, 
the  ploughman,  remained  beside  a  barrel  of  run 
ning  ale  and  drank  his  health  all  day.  For  he 
was  a  wonderful  old  man. 

Hither  and  thither  the  domestics  scurried 
swiftly,  making  preparations.  Some  were  cook 
ing  rare  pasties  of  grouse  and  ptarmigan,  gos- 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  197 

lings  and  dough-birds  ;  some  were  setting  great 
tables  in-doors  and  out ;  and  some  were  piling 
fagots  for  the  Dragon's  funeral  pyre.  Popham, 
with  magnificent  solemnity  and  a  pair  of  new 
calves,  gave  orders  to  Meeson  and  Welsby,  and 
kept  little  Whelpdale  panting  for  breath  with 
errands  ;  while  in  and  out,  between  everybody's 
legs,  and  over  or  under  all  obstacles,  stalked  the 
two  ravens  Croak  James  and  Croak  Elizabeth,  a 
big  white  wedding-favour  tied  round  the  neck  of 
each.  To  see  these  grave  birds,  none  would 
have  suspected  how  frequently  they  had  been  in 
the  mince-pies  that  morning,  though  Popham  had 
expressly  ruled  (in  somewhat  stilted  language) 
that  they  should  "  take  nothink  by  their  bills." 

"Geoffrey,"  said  the  Baron,  "I  think  we'll 
begin.  Popham,  tell  them  to  light  that  fire 
there." 

"The  guests  are  still  coming,  sir,"  said  Geof 
frey. 

"  No  matter.  It  is  half  after  eleven."  The 
Baron  showed  his  sun-dial,  and  there  was  no 
doubt  of  it.  "  Here,  take  the  keys,"  he  said, 
"  and  bring  the  monster  out  for  us." 

17* 


198 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 


"I'll  go  and  put  on  my  armour,"  suggested 
the  young  man.  That  would  take  time  ;  perhaps 
the  monks  might  arrive. 

"Why,  the  brute's  chained.  You  need  no 
armour.  Nonsense !" 

"  But  think  of  my  clothes  in  that  pit,  sir, — on 
my  wedding-day." 

"  Pooh  !  That's  the  first  sign  of  a  Frenchman 
I've  seen  in  you.  Take  the  keys,  sir." 

The  crackle  of  the  kindling  fagots  came  to 
Geoffrey's  ears.  He  saw  the  forty  men  with 
chains  that  were  to  haul  the  Dragon  into  the 
fire. 

"  But  there's  Father  Anselm  yet  to  come,"  he 
protested.  "  Surely  we  wait  for  him." 

"I'll  wait  for  nobody.  He  with  his  Crusades 
and  rubbish  !  Haven't  I  got  this  Dragon,  and 
there's  no  Crusade? — Ah,  Cousin  Modus,  glad 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  199 

you  could  come  over.  Just  in  time.  The 
sherry's  to  your  left.  Yes,  it's  a  very  fine  day. 
Yes,  yes,  this  is  Geoffrey  my  girl's  to  marry  and 
all  that. — What  do  I  care  about  Father  Anselm  ?" 
the  old  gentleman  resumed  testily,  when  his 
cousin  Modus  had  shuffled  off.  "  Come,  sir." 

He  gave  the  keys  into  Geoffrey's  unwilling 
hand,  and  ordered  silence  proclaimed. 

"  Hearken,  good  friends  !"  said  he,  and  all  talk 
and  going  to  and  fro  ceased.  The  tenantry 
stood  down  in  the  court-yard,  a  mass  of  motion 
less  russet  and  yellow,  every  face  watching  the 
Baron.  The  gentry  swarmed  noiselessly  out 
upon  the  steps  behind  him,  their  handsome 
dresses  bright  against  the  Manor  walls.  There 
was  a  short  pause.  Old  Gaffer  Piers  made  a 
slight  disturbance  falling  over  with  his  cup  of 
ale,  but  was  quickly  set  on  his  feet  by  his  neigh 
bours.  The  sun  blazed  down,  and  the  growling 
of  the  Dragon  came  from  the  pit. 

"  Yonder  noise,"  pursued  Sir  Godfrey,  "  speaks 
more  to  the  point  than  I  could.  I'll  give  you  no 
speech."  All  loudly  cheered  at  this. 

"  Don't  you  think,"  whispered  the  Rev.  Hue- 


200  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

bald  in  the  Baron's  ear,  "that  a  little  something 
serious  should  be  said  on  such  an  occasion  ?  I 
should  like  our  brethren  to  be  reminded " 

"Fudge!"  said  the  Baron.  "For  thirteen 
years,"  he  continued,  raising  his  voice  again, 
"  this  Dragon  has  been  speaking  for  himself. 
You  all  know  and  I  know  how  that  has  been. 
And  now  we  are  going  to  speak  for  ourselves. 
And  when  he  is  on  top  of  that  fire  he'll  know 
how  that  is.  Geoffrey,  open  the  pit  and  get  him 
out." 

Again  there  was  a  cheer,  but  a  short  one,  for 
the  spell  of  expectancy  was  on  all.  The  young 
man  descended  into  the  court,  and  the  air  seemed 
to  turn  to  a  wavering  mist  as  he  looked  up  at  the 
Manor  windows  seeking  to  spy  Elaine's  face  at 
one  of  them.  Was  this  to  be  the  end  ?  Could 
he  kiss  her  one  last  good-by  if  disaster  was  in 
store  for  them  after  all  ?  Alas  !  no  glimpse  of 
her  was  to  be  seen  as  he  moved  along,  hardly 
aware  of  his  own  steps,  and  the  keys  jingling 
lightly  as  he  moved.  Through  the  crowd  he 
passed,  and  a  whispering  ran  in  his  wake  followed 
by  deeper  silence  than  before.  He  reached  the 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  2OI 

edge  of  the  people  and  crossed  the  open  space 
beyond,  passing  the  leaping  blaze  of  the  fagots, 
and  so  drew  near  the  iron  door  of  the  pit.  The 
key  went  slowly  into  the  lock.  All  shrank  with 
dismay  at  the  roar  which  rent  the  air.  Geoffrey 
paused  with  his  hand  gripping  the  key,  and  there 
came  a  sound  of  solemn  singing  over  the  fields. 

"The  monks!"  murmured  a  few  under  their 
breath ;  and  silence  fell  again,  each  listen 
ing. 

Men's  voices  it  was,  and  their  chanting  rose  by 
one  sudden  step  to  a  high  note  that  was  held  for 
a  moment,  and  then  sank  again,  mellow  like  the 
harmony  of  horns  in  a  wood.  Then  over  the 
ridge  from  Oyster-le-Main  the  length  of  a  slow 
procession  began  to  grow.  The  gray  gowns 
hung  to  the  earth  straight  with  scarce  any  waving 
as  the  men  walked.  The  heavy  hoods  reached 
over  each  face  so  there  was  no  telling  its  features. 
None  in  the  court-yard  spoke  at  all,  as  the  brood 
ing  figures  passed  in  under  the  gateway  and 
proceeded  to  the  door  of  the  bear-pit,  singing 
always.  Howlings  that  seemed  born  of  terror 
now  rose  from  the  imprisoned  monster ;  and 


202  THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY. 

many  thought,  "  evidently  the  evil  beast  cannot 
endure  the  sound  of  holy  words." 

Elaine  in  her  white  dress  now  gazed  from  an 
upper  window,  seeing  her  lover  with  his  enemies 
drawing  continually  closer  around  him. 

Perhaps  it  was  well  for  him  that  his  death  alone 
would  not  have  served  to  lock  their  secret  up 
again  ;  that  the  white  maiden  in  the  window  is 
ready  to  speak  the  word  and  direct  instant  ven 
geance  on  them  and  their  dragon  if  any  ill  befall 
that  young  man  who  stands  by  the  iron  door. 

The  song  of  the  monks  ended.  Sir  Godfrey 
on  the  steps  was  wondering  why  Father  Anselm 
did  not  stand  out  from  the  rest  of  the  gray  people 
and  explain  his  wishes.  "  Though  he  shall  not 
interrupt  the  sport,  whatever  he  says,"  thought 
the  Baron,  and  cast  on  the  group  of  holy  men  a 
less  hospitable  eye  than  had  beamed  on  his  other 
guests.  Geoffrey  over  at  the  iron  door,  sur 
rounded  by  the  motionless  figures,  scanned  each 
hood  narrowly  and  soon  met  the  familiar  eyes  of 
Hubert.  Hubert's  gown,  he  noticed,  bulged  out 
in  a  manner  ungainly  and  mysterious.  "  Open 
the  door,"  whispered  that  youth.  At  once  Geof- 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


203 


frey  began  to  turn  the  key. 
And  at  its  grinding  all  held 
their  breath,  and  a  quivering 
silence  hung  over  the  court. 
The  hasty  drops  pattered 
down  from  the  eaves  from 
the  snow  that  was  melting 
on  the  roof.  Then  some 
strip  of  metal  inside  the  lock 
sprung  suddenly,  making  a 
sharp  song,  and  ceased. 
The  crowd  of  monks  pressed 
closer  together  as  the  iron 
door  swung  open. 

What   did    Geoffrey  see? 


§  TM6°DRAqoN  •  MAKCTH  •  HIS  •  LAST 


204  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

None  but  the  monks  could  tell  Instantly  a 
single  roar  more  terrible  than  any  burst  out,  and 
the  huge  horrible  black  head  and  jaws  of  the 
monster  reared  into  the  view  of  Sir  Godfrey  and 
his  guests.  One  instant  the  fearful  vision  in  the 
door-way  swayed  with  a  stiff  strange  movement 
over  the  knot  of  monks  that  surrounded  it,  then 
sank  out  of  sight  among  them.  There  was  a 
sound  of  jerking  and  fierce  clanking  of  chains, 
mingled  with  loud  chanting  of  pious  sentences. 
Then  a  plume  of  spitting  flame  flared  upward 
with  a  mighty  roar,  and  the  gray  figures  scat 
tered  right  and  left.  There  along  the  ground 
lay  the  monster,  shrivelled,  twisted  in  dismal 
coils,  and  dead.  Close  beside  his  black  body 
towered  Father  Anselm,  smoothing  the  folds 
of  his  gray  gown.  Geoffrey  was  sheathing  his 
sword  and  looking  at  Hubert,  whose  dress  bulged 
out  no  longer,  but  fitted  him  as  usual. 

"We  have  been  vouchsafed  a  miracle,"  said 
Father  Anselm  quietly,  to  the  gaping  spectators. 

"There'll  be  no  burning,"  said  Geoffrey,  point 
ing  to  the  shrunken  skin.  But  though  he  spoke 
so  coolly,  and  repelled  all  besieging  disturbance 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  205 

from  the  fortress  of  his  calm  visage  and  bearing, 
as  a  bold  and  haughty  youth  should  do,  yet  he 
could  scarcely  hold  his  finger  steady  as  it  pointed 
to  the  blackened  carcase.  Then  all  at  once  his 
eyes  met  those  of  Elaine  where  she  watched 
from  her  window,  and  relief  and  joy  rushed 
through  him.  He  stretched  his  arms  towards 
her,  not  caring  who  saw,  and  the  look  she  sent 
him  with  a  smile  drove  all  surrounding  things 
to  an  immeasurable  distance  away. 

"Here  indeed,"  Father  Anselm  repeated,  "is 
a  miracle.  Lo,  the  empty  shell !  The  snake 
hath  shed  his  skin." 

"This  is  very  disappointing,"  said  Sir  Godfrey, 
bewildered.  "  Is  there  no  dragon  to  roast?" 

"The  roasting,"  replied  the  Abbot,  impres 
sively,  "  is  even  now  begun  for  all  eternity." 
He  stretched  out  an  arm  and  pointed  downward 
through  the  earth.  "The  evil  spirit  has  fled. 
The  Church  hath  taken  this  matter  into  her  own 
hands,  and  claims  yon  barren  hide  as  a  relic." 

"Well, — I  don't  see  why  the  Church  can't  let 
good  sport  alone,"  retorted  Sir  Godfrey. 

"  Hope   she'll    not   take   to   breaking   up   my 

o  18 


206  THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 

cock-fights  this  way,"  muttered  the  Count  de 
Gorgonzola,  sulkily. 

"The  Church  cares  nothing  for  such  profane 
frivolities,"  observed  Father  Anselm  with  cold 
dignity. 

"At  all  events,  friends,"  said  Sir  Godfrey, 
cheering  up,  "  the  country  is  rid  of  the  Dragon  of 
Wantley,  and  we've  got  a  wedding  and  a  break 
fast  left." 

Just  at  this  moment  a  young  horseman  rode 
furiously  into  the  court-yard. 

It  was  Roland,  Sir  Godfrey's  son.  "Great 
news  !"  he  began  at  once.  "  Another  Crusade  has 
been  declared — and  I  am  going.  Merry  Christ 
mas  !  Where's  Elaine  ?  Where's  the  Dragon  ?" 

Father  Anselm's  quick  brain  seized  this  chance. 
He  and  his  monks  should  make  a  more  stately 
exit  than  he  had  planned. 

"See,"  he  said  in  a  clear  voice  to  his  monks, 
"how  all  is  coming  true  that  was  revealed  to  me 
this  night!  My  son,"  he  continued,  turning  to 
young  Roland,  "  thy  brave  resolve  reached  me 
ere  thou  hadst  made  it.  Know  it  has  been 
through  thee  that  the  Dragon  has  gone !" 


THE  DRAGON  OF  WANTLEY.  207 

Upon  this  there  was  profound  silence. 

"And  now,"  he  added  solemnly,  "farewell. 
The  monks  of  Oyster-le-Main  go  hence  to  the 
Holy  Land  also,  to  battle  for  the  true  Faith 
Behold !  we  have  made  us  ready  to  meet  the 
toil." 

His  haughty  tones  ceased,  and  he  made  a 
sign.  The  gray  gowns  fell  to  the  snow,  and 
revealed  a  stalwart,  fierce-looking  crew  in  black 
armour.  But  the  Abbot  kept  his  gray  gown. 

"You'll  stay  for  the  wedding?"  inquired  Sir 
Godfrey  of  him. 

"  Our  duty  lies  to  the  sea.  Farewell,  for  I 
shall  never  see  thy  face  again." 

He  turned.  Hubert  gathered  up  the  hide  of 
the  crocodile  and  threw  a  friendly  glance  back  at 
Geoffrey.  Then  again  raising  their  song,  the 
black  band  slowly  marched  out  under  the  gate 
and  away  over  the  snow  until  the  ridge  hid  them 
from  sight,  and  only  their  singing  could  be  heard 
in  the  distant  fields. 

"Well,"  exclaimed  Sir  Godfrey,  "it's  no  use 
to  stand  staring.  Now  for  the  wedding  !  Mistle 
toe,  go  up  and  tell  Miss  Elaine.  Hucbald,  tell 


208 


THE  DRAGON  OF   WANTLEY. 


the  organist  to  pipe  up  his  music.  And  as  soon 
as  it's  over  we'll  drink  the  bride's  health  and 
health  to  the  bridegroom.  'Tis  a  lucky  thing 
that  between  us  all  the  Dragon  is  gone,  for 
there's  still  enough  of  my  Burgundy  to  last  us 
till  midnight.  Come,  friends,  come  in,  for  every 
thing  waits  your  pleasure !" 


.Reader,  if  thou  hail  found  fhy  Way  fhtis  far>tfjji 
.Sure  flien  I've  writ  fecneafli  a  fucky  Star;  xf  Jl 
And  Nofhingr  fo  becomes  all  Journeys*  Ends  ^r| 
As  fliat  the  Travellers  fhould  part  as  TVfcnds.  "ywj 


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